


Wands & Wishes

by mrsaturtle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Azkaban, Dark Mark (Harry Potter), Death Eaters, F/M, Good Death Eaters, Ollivanders Wand Shop (Harry Potter), Wandless Magic, Wandlore (Harry Potter), Wands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2019-12-18 13:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 31,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18250589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsaturtle/pseuds/mrsaturtle
Summary: Sitting in Azkaban leaves Antonin Dolohov alone with his own thoughts, and beyond his obsession with one brown-haired witch, is the reminder of another plan the Dark Lord had to stay in power. He needs to share this knowledge with someone else and there is only one witch he trusts.





	1. Azkaban

**Author's Note: Hello Dear Readers, I'm sure there will be some that are disappointed to see a new story. Understand my husband dropped this idea on me and suddenly a plot bunny attacked. I'm not sure how long this story will be, and if you don't like the details of the story, I'll understand if you don't read. Writing is still hit or miss these days, and I follow the muse wherever it takes me.  
**

**This characterisation of Antonin Dolohov is 100% inspired and in some cases copied from the way Canimal has written him. Any similarities belong exclusively to her creative genius.**

**JK Rowling owns Harry Potter and the characters and places. I earn nothing from these stories.**

**Trigger Warnings: Talk of past trauma and dark magic**

**For new readers and old readers don't forget that I have my facebook group, mrsaturtlesreaders, that you can join to get early snippets of chapters, extra content, and previews to new stories.**

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**I will update tags and characters as they introduce themselves to the story ;)**

**Please look for translations of anything in Russian at the bottom of the chapter. All of it is taken from google translate, except for the list that the wonderful Canimal has provided.**

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"Look I only want one thing, one thing, and I'll behave." Antonin Dolohov said teeth clenched as he fought against his bonds, making the process of moving him between cells that much harder.

"That's just it Dolohov, I could make you behave but you've never given us any problems, and I don't like the idea of having to do that to you." The Azkaban guard said, wand trained on Antonin's back as he renewed the spell over and over to keep the Russian wizard from getting free.

"And I won't give you any more trouble if you just let me talk to her, just once." Antonin was fighting, pushing his magic to the surface with repeated silent spells, as he struggled not to get free but to make the Azkaban guard's jobs harder, so they took him seriously.

As a prisoner in the Wizarding Prison, he had very little say in what happened to him, and no ability to make demands. However if he was right about this, and about who was still at large, the wizarding community could have another evil megalomaniac on their hands, and without the ability to stop it.

He needed to talk to Hermione Granger, now, not tomorrow if what the guards had read the articles correctly. He knew the witch would be scared of him, and he didn't enjoy that fact, but he still needed to see her. Unlike the other members of the golden trio, he knew that she was bright enough to catch onto the danger in this loophole.

"Vy ne ponimayete," Antonin muttered under his breath as a stronger spell rushed over his skin.

"No Russian, you know the deal Dolohov, no bloody Russian," Ernie Stilsmith all but yelled at him, the Azkaban guards all knew Antonin's history as a curse-breaker and that he needed no wand to unleash his powers on them. It'd been two years since his magic had been locked down and the damper removed, he wouldn't enjoy going back.

When a witch or wizard is cut off from their magic, it's almost like taking an organ from them. They might be able to live for a while, but they're barely functional. Its use was deemed the most humane way to keep the prisoners since the use of Dementors had been outlawed.

"It's not a spell you bastard. Just let me talk to Hermione." He was done arguing if they didn't let him see her, he might seriously contemplate escaping to find her, but that would certainly scare the witch, and he had no desire to do that.

Ernie cast a full-body bind at that moment and proceeded to levitate Antonin back to his cell. "Look Dolohov, you and I have been fine the last few years, let me see what I can do to help you. I'll make a call, but only if you knock this out."

Antonin grunted in agreement and felt the curse lift as soon as his cell door shut. Standing up, he sat down at his small desk and pulled out a scroll and quill. The Russian wizard began to make notes, writing down everything but the most crucial parts of this magic. He wasn't sure who he could trust, this kind of magic could have devastating consequences if it fell into the wrong hands. Once Antonin could meet with her, he would share the detailed information.

A fortnight had passed with only a small promise from Ernie that sent an owl to a "friend" who might be of some use, and Antonin spent most of his time making copious amounts of notes, writing out the possible intricate spell options that might close the loophole in wand magic that still existed.

He sat at his desk, quill moving quickly over the scrolls as he heard a guard coming down the hallway towards his cell. He quickly disillusioned the pile of scrolls that were now hiding under his cot, to save himself the explanation that would be required if the guards saw the work he was up to, without moving from his spot.

"Dolohov, I can't believe I'm going to say this, but you have a visitor. Harry Potter is here to see you," Mitchell Piers said, one of the other guards to his floor of Azkaban, his confused face now at the bars to his cell. Mitchell annoyed Antonin in the way he treated himself and his fellow prisoners. There was nothing to be done to make their lives more miserable unless you counted Dementors and putting a damper on their magic again, but he insisted on treating them all as less than humans.

It reminded Antonin a lot of the Dark Lord and how he and his fellow followers had viewed those of less than Pureblood ancestry. Those days were long behind him, had died at the end of the first war, but he would pay for his crimes regardless of the intent behind them.

"Harry Potter, but that wasn't who I requested to speak with," Antonin replied, feeling a frisson of fear and a mild irritation that he would have to deal with the Boy Who Lived before he could deal with his witch. Shaking his head, he stood and readied his hands for their cuffing spell.

He was escorted down to the ground floor of the prison, where all visitors were seen, and into a small room where his magic was dampened before anyone entered. Antonin hated the feeling that fell over him as his magic was dampened, he understood it, and though the guards didn't know it, if they had a prisoner to be concerned about, it would be him. The truth was he stayed in prison because being on the run didn't appeal to him. Plus he knew that he needed to give up his freedom to even attempt to pay for the lives that had been stolen by his wand.

Antonin only waited a few minutes before the door opened again, and the green-eyed wizard who won the war walked in, his eyes locked on Antonin's the entire walk to the other side of the table. He took a moment to take in the other wizard's appearance, noting that Potter now had a wedding ring on his finger, something he hadn't heard about, so it was either new news or Antonin had indeed managed to cut himself off from the outside world.

Harry Potter leaned back in the chair across from Antonin, regarding him sceptically. His voice clear he finally spoke, "What is your business asking for Hermione?"

Antonin smirked, a false bit of confidence filled him before he replied, "Potter, this really is beyond your scope, I need the Brightest Witch for the kind of magic we need to get to work on."

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_To be continued. . ._

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Vy ne ponimayete - You do not understand


	2. Apparition

**A/n: Hello dear friends, it has been quite a long time since THIS story was updated. October of 2018 to be exact. Well, I can't explain why but this muse showed up today wanting attention. Who am I to deny such a beautiful little muse.**

**As with ALL of my stories that feature Antonin Dolohov as the main character and pairing for Hermione, the characterization is NOT mine, but that of the wonderful and genius Canimal. Please check out her fics for a lot of Antonin Dolohov and other yummy Death Eaters.**

**The only currency I ask for is the lovely words you might leave in a review.**

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Hermione swallowed, hoping to push down the nervousness she felt. Even with her best friend beside her, she wasn't looking forward to coming face-to-face with Antonin Dolohov again. Azkaban wasn't exactly what she was expecting, but she had been told what it had been before, and she supposed this was better than it had been under the Dementors.

"You ok 'Mione?" Harry asked, turning in his chair to watch Hermione as she paced behind him.

"No – Yes – I don't know," Hermione said, her voice trailing off as she heard noises on the other side of the door on the opposite wall.

The door opened, one guard in front and one behind Antonin Dolohov who wore dark grey robes, so reminiscent of the Death Eater robes that he used to wear that Hermione almost gasped out loud. If it hadn't been for his hands clasped in front of him and magically bound she would have raised her wand in defence.

Antonin took a seat in the chair across from Harry, his hazel eyes on Hermione, that look of curious, obsession as evident as it was the last time she had seen him, at his trial. She continued to stand, unwilling to sit across from the man that had taken away the greatest joy she might have ever experienced in her life.

"He asked that we bring these with him," one of the guards said, dropping a pile of parchment and tightly bound scrolls on the table. "We scanned them for curses and the like, and they're safe, though we don't understand a word of it."

Harry pulled out his own wand, the wand that brought the end of Lord Voldemort, that took down any Dark threats that had come up since the end of the war. The phoenix feather wand moved over the parchment, sending up puffs of smoke and bursts of light that made sense to only Harry. When he stopped moving his wand, he turned to Hermione and gave her a sharp nod.

Hermione cleared her throat, willing her Gryffindor bravery forward, hating that this man made her nervous. "Alright Dolohov, what is this about, why did you want to see me? What was so important you couldn't share it with Harry?"

"Solnyshko, you are the only witch I would trust with this information. No offence to you Potter, but for all your achievements you weren't ever named "Brightest of the Age,"" Antonin said, a small smirk playing at his lips as he continued to stare at Hermione. "I'd love to explain everything but every wall has ears in this place, and I can't risk anyone else figuring out this loophole."

Hermione looked at him carefully, unable to take her eyes off of him now, as was expected when someone was staring you down. She wasn't going to be the one to back down now, so she moved and slid into her seat. "Alright what are you asking, Dolohov?"

"A quick Apparation, anywhere but here or the Ministry, you can bring all the Aurors you want, keep on dampening my magic, but you and I must talk. I trust you've brushed up on your Russian," Antonin said his lips twitching when she raised her eyebrow.

Hermione hated how well he knew her, how even now, years later he knew just how to get under her skin. The Russian wizard was fluent in four languages besides the one he was born speaking, and during his trial, he had given each bit of testimony in Russian, from the first trial to the last. She had been furious having to wait for the court translator to publish all of his statements the next day, so she had resolved to learn Russian. Over the months that his trial lasted, she had slowly caught on.

By the end of his trial, where he was able to address her personally; well address anyone personally, but he only had words for her. He had continued in his native Russian, and she had caught every single word, though they did nothing but upset her more.

"What are you playing at Dolohov, you're not leaving this prison," Mitchell Piers said from behind him, the guard pulling out his wand menacingly and pointing it at Dolohov's back.

Harry held up his hand, a simple gesture but from Harry James Potter it called for immediate silence. "Dolohov last time you and I spoke you promised no more games, and I agreed to bring Hermione because you had begun to explain some of the bits of magic involved and you hadn't made a word of sense. What proof can you give us that you aren't just trying to escape."

Antonin Dolohov growled a noise that Hermione felt crawl over her skin and caused her pulse to quicken. "I'll give you proof."

Hermione's hand shot to her wand before Antonin's hands began to move. They were tracing shapes in the air, and she watched, horrified. His hands separated, his magical binds gone. The door behind him clicked open, and the Russian wizard lifted his hand into the air as the two wands of the guards flew into his open palm. With careful movements, he laid the two wands in front of Hermione, purposefully pushing them in a show of peace.

Hermione watched in stunned silence as the room erupted. The guards began to scream, calling for reinforcements. Harry turned his own wand on Dolohov, as guards filled the room. Wands were now trained on the Russian wizard from all directions, except Hermione. His eyes stayed locked on hers even as his arms were pulled behind him, though if his magic wasn't hindered, it wouldn't have done anything but slow him down.

The guards were screaming about the dampening spells not working. Harry was yelling demanding the wands of all the guards who worked with Dolohov, convinced that one of them must have neglected to cast the right spells. Chaos reigned in the small interview room and the minutes stretched on until Dolohov moved his lips. He didn't speak out loud; instead, he mouthed the Russian words to her.

"Ty ne v bezopasnosti, no ya nikogda bol'she ne sdelayu tebe bol'no. Pozhaluysta, my dolzhny pogovorit'," he repeated himself three times, every few words pausing so that she could understand. Her Russian was indeed rusty, but it wasn't like she had anyone to practice it with.

Hermione nodded when she finally understood his whole message, Dolohov's lips curling into a small smile. It unhinged her more than she cared to admit how it completely changed his face, making him look almost friendly.

"Harry, a moment please," Hermione said, her voice low knowing she wouldn't be able to shout over the crowd. She placed her hand on his forearm and gave him a half-smile when he turned to her.

Every eye turned from her best friend to Hermione, and she swallowed. "While I am sure everyone would like to find someone to blame in this instance, it is quite obvious that no one has been careless in their jobs. All of this is because of Dolohov himself, his magic is too strong, but in case you all missed it, he put the wands down," She paused, letting her words sink in before she continued. "Harry whatever this is, I need to at least know what he thinks before I can decide if it deserves my attention."

"Hermione if he doesn't need a wand to cast magic if his magic can't be dampened while within these walls by guards trained to cast the spells, what hope do we have to keep him from running if we take him with us?" Harry was staring at her, his eyes telling her everything she needed to know. He was confused, but he was also concerned, for her.

"Potter, if I meant to escape, I'd be gone. I'd pull a Sirius Black, and you'd never see me again," Dolohov said, his voice was steady as he looked at Harry.

"What does that mean?" Harry asked him, his eyes tightening at the mention of his deceased Godfather.

"I've been an Animagus since I was fourteen," Antonin shrugged.

"You're not registered," Harry said as though that cancelled what he had just been told.

"Not like I'm the only one," Antonin replied.

Hermione reached for the parchment still on the table, some of the symbols catching her eye for the first time since Antonin Dolohov had been brought into the room. As she scanned the top sheet, her eyes widened, reading the story these symbols were telling. It was a mixture of Arithmancy, Chukchi hieroglyphics, Latin, and, of course, Russian. It took her a few minutes, and she lost track of the conversation around her as she tried to make sense of it.

"You see it don't you Solnyshko," Dolohov said, his voice a whisper that somehow still carried to her.

She nodded before raising her eyes to his, "Obeshchay mne, chto ne ubezhish'."

Something flashed in his hazel eyes, even as he began to nod, "YA nikogda ne ubegu ot tebya, solnyshko."

Hermione pushed her magic forward and sighed, Harry would need to know, but not right this moment, not when she needed to take advantage of it. The Apparation wards on Azkaban Prison were almost non-existent, at least in this room.

She stood, mostly ignored by the room at large who were back to pointing fingers and blaming everyone else. Hermione felt Harry's eyes on her and reached for his other forearm as she rounded the table. She grasped his sleeve, as she grabbed ahold of Dolohov's arm and turned on the spot.

The forest that had been their refuge so many years ago materialised around the three of them, and Hermione stepped carefully as she spun to a halt.

"Hermione, what the bloody hell have you done?" Harry screeched, his usually calm voice raised to the point of screaming.

"I'm getting answers, Harry. Alright Dolohov spill, what is this about One Wand?" Hermione asked, turning her own vine wand on the Russian Wizard who sat on the ground, his eyes taking in the forest around him.

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_To be continued. . ._

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**Solnyshko**  = little sun

Ty ne **v** bezopasnosti **, no ya** nikogda **bol'she** ne sdelayu tebe **bol'no. Pozhaluysta, my** dolzhny pogovorit **'**  = You are not safe, but I will never hurt you again. Please we have to talk.

 **Obeshchay** mne **,** chto ne ubezhish **'**. = Promise me you won't run

 **YA** nikogda ne ubegu ot tebya **, solnyshko.**  = I won't ever run from you, little sun.


	3. Augustus

**A/n: I am just at this muses mercy right now. She is ready to spill all her secrets and I'm as much along for the ride as you are right now.**

**Just a reminder Antonin Dolohov as characterised here is the brainchild of Canimal, shower her with love for her genius.**

**Your reviews bring me so much joy, so let's practice KonMari together and keep them (coming). Is my suburban housewife face showing, sorry.**

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Antonin sat in silence enjoying the feeling of a breeze on his face for the first time in four years. This wasn't why he was here, but he wasn't going to ignore the opportunity when it was presented to him. He hadn't expected his witch to take such drastic action, though on some level he wasn't surprised either. He had teased her with the first parchment on top, both with the varying languages but also with the message it contained.

Now he had to decide where to start, that was important. He could start with the present threat, though they might jump into action and ignore the parts that led to this point, and that was just as crucial. A memory flashed in his mind, and it brought out a hoarse gasp as his body remembered the Cruciatus curse as it fried his nerves.

"What is it Dolohov?" Potter asked, his green eyes scanning the forest around them, his wand still pointed at Dolohov.

"Nothing, just a memory," Antonin explained. "I need to start at the beginning then I'll explain the current threat."

Hermione nodded, she cast some spells above them, and he wondered if she knew he could feel what she was doing, so attuned to the feeling of spells. She probably didn't, but it was no bother, he wasn't going anywhere. He would go back to Azkaban just like he promised her. When she sat down on the forest floor across from him, he began.

"Years before that damned Prophecy sent the Dark Lord mad, he was quite brilliant. He knew what he wanted, and that was to rule the Wizarding World and eventually put the Muggles of the world in their place, which was beneath all of us. He wasn't content with sitting back and ne kladí vse yáytsa v odnú korzínu."

Potter's face scrunched up in confusion, and he looked at Hermione who translated, "He didn't want to put all of his eggs in one basket." Potter nodded, understanding before he looked back at Dolohov

Dolohov smiled and nodded at the brunette witch before he continued, "Those most loyal to him all had their own projects, and I was consulted on many of them. I was the only curse-breaker, and he trusted my opinion." He ran his hand through his long, shaggy brown hair. "Some of them were dead ends, not that I would dare tell the Dark Lord. Some of them would be inconvenient if they were figured out, but there was one that if figured out could change the way everyone practices magic."

"For hundreds of years witches and wizards have used wands, but it wasn't always that way. Our magic used to be more innate, and sometimes some of us still exhibit that type of magic. Either when we create spells from nothing but an idea, or when we accidentally do magic, a lot of young children show off our old innate magic. That is until you put a tool in their hand and tell them to channel their magic through it."

"Wands were created because innate magic wasn't always certain, and our ancestors needed a way to recreate the same spells over and over again, how can you cast Lumos when all you do is wave your hand and ask for light, it could go to any light in your area if you're not specific. Or it could become a ball of light that floats in front of you, depending on your magic that day. They wanted something more consistent. So wands and spells were invented, we then harnassed our power, but it also limited it."

Dolohov paused, realising that years of silence might mean he was already too late, but he had no idea the man was still alive, this was the best he could do.

"We needed wandmakers, brilliant artists and magicians who could imbue certain magics into an instrument that would work for anyone. Over time wand makers found that certain wands favor certain users, but each wandmaker had a signature, making different makers unique. However, all wands have a loophole, one that could allow someone to rise to power unimpeded. It was this very loophole that the Dark Lord wanted to take advantage of, at the time I believed everything he said, but I still had a moment of doubt when he brought the loophole to my attention. I never told anyone in any detail the kinds of magic that would be necessary, and I think I'm too late and he may have already figured it out."

He took a deep breath and waited.

"Who might have figured it out?" Hermione asked, finally.

"Augustus Rookwood," Dolohov said simply. "This was not my project, it was Rookwood's, but the Dark Lord had asked for my opinion."

"Augustus Rookwood has been missing since the Battle of Hogwarts," Potter said.

"True, but he could hardly come out of hiding and not end up in Azkaban like the rest of us," Dolohov nodded solemnly.

"So how do you know he's out there? Why do you even think he's still working on this project? Voldemort is dead," Potter said, his voice going low.

"Yes, the Dark Lord is dead, you killed him. But I'd hazard that you haven't captured all of his followers, and I know for certain that Rookwood is still out there, and working at the Ministry no less," Dolohov stated and waited for their disbelief to fully set in. Over their arguments, he continued, "He is working in the Department of Mysteries again, under the name he used when he didn't want to be found. He created a whole person under this name before he was captured the first time."

"Who is it than Dolohov?" Potter asked, his voice was snappish now.

"First, I need to explain the magic. Otherwise, you'll race off to try and stop him before you understand what you're facing and why you're not ready."

"Ok explain it to us," she said, unlike Potter's voice hers was steady, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was steeling herself for what would need to happen.

"It's sadly so simple, it's quite shocking no one has tried before now, all wandmakers use wands, to create the rest of the wands. They are a wand's first master," He paused, waiting for his witch to understand, but it wasn't her who answered.

"Wands can change allegiance," Potter said a weight in his voice that hadn't been there.

Dolohov nodded, "Wands can change, and if you control a wandmakers wand, you control all wands created by that one. None of them could turn against you, and we've gotten out the practice of using wandless magic because it is so inexact."

"Are you telling me that for the last two decades Rookwood has been trying to work out how to gain the allegiance of a wandmakers wand, and you think he's close?"

"Yes Solnyshko, he's very close."

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_To be continued. . ._

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Solnyshko - little sun


	4. Algernon

**A/n: After this chapter, all the cards are on the table, you know the loophole and now we get to join our favorite adventurers plus an ex-Death Eater as we try and save the world. No promises though.**

**The romantic, Russian in this story, Antonin Dolohov, was created in name and status by the beautiful JK Rowling. BUT the amazing Canimal created the character that I'm using now. Give her some love.**

**I make no money if that needs to be said, so please leave me some beautiful worlds. I put them near my muse who reads them and fans herself with your words.**

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"Ok, so who is doing this?" Harry said keeping his voice calm even as he began to pace.

"I told you, it's August Rookwood," Dolohov said.

"No, who is he pretending to be or who is he now?" Harry snapped.

"Algernon Ainsworth of the Department of Mysteries, he's back where he started," Dolohov said his eyes back on Hermione's.

"But I work with him! I see him every day," Hermione cried, her voice loud enough to unnerve birds from a nearby tree which took flight.

"I know Solnyshko, that's why I got to work right away. Your name was in the same article," Dolohov said, his hand reaching for her as though he meant to grasp her hand. Hermione's grip tightened on her wand, so far he had shown no threat, but she wouldn't take any chances. She also wasn't sure why he kept calling her Solnyshko. It was a Russian term of endearment, she knew that but little sun, what could that mean.

"What article?" Harry asked years as his friend let Hermione know just how close to losing his temper he was. It was how he fought dark wizards now, furious that they would upset the peace he had died for, that their loved ones had been killed for.

"Some article in the Prophet last week, it was about the Department. It gave some short explanations on the types of projects we work on, nothing specific," Hermione said, by way of explanation. "I didn't even bother to read it, they had asked for a picture of me though, which Percy had all but demanded since it's common knowledge that I'm in the Department. He said it was good press for the Ministry."

"Ty vyglyadela prekrasno," Dolohov said, keeping his voice low so that Harry could barely hear over his pacing.

"Stop it Dolohov," Hermione said, her eyes narrowing in annoyance. She had thought that the picture had been a good one, in fact, but she didn't want Antonin Dolohov calling her beautiful after all he had done to her. "You said we weren't ready, why?"

"You use wands," Dolohov said.

"Yes, and so does the rest of the Wizarding World," Harry snapped again, as though that was the most useless information.

"But that's it, Harry, we all use wands and if Rookwood has come up with a way to turn our wand's allegiance away from us than we would stand no chance up against him," Hermione said, biting her lip as she was lost in thought. Finally, her brown eyes turned to Dolohov's hazel eyes, "You said on that stupid piece of paper that you had a plan, well you said that you had come up with some spells."

"I have, if he's been able to work around the loophole there is nothing we can do to stop him from gaining the allegiances of the wands, and until you capture him, you can't know whose wands he controls," Dolohov paused. "If he controls Ollivander's, he'll control the isles, but if I were him and he and I think a great deal alike, I would have started with a smaller experiment before I took it out and attacked the old wandmaker."

"You think he's already tried to use the loophole?" Hermione asked her face paling significantly.

"I know he has already, did you read about that family down in Uganda who was killed, leaving no marks?" Dolohov asked, and was relieved when they both shook their heads in the affirmative.

"That family's elder, she was an old wandmaker, but only made them for her family and tribe. If I were Rookwood, I would have found a wandmaker without many wands attached to them and won allegiance before challenging the other wands to a duel. He would have gone unattacked and been able to kill and curse freely and unabated."

Hermione shook her head in silent horror, it was just like Voldemort than. She looked at Harry who's jaw and fists were clenched, he seemed ready to hex someone or something.

"I have worked on some magic, some new defensive magic. I've made it easy to cast without a wand, I think. I've been the only one to test it, and I've only had bugs and vermin to try it on, so it's not a reliable case study, but I have some other theories about how we can get a handle on this," Dolohov said. "I'll need to show you my notes."

"Yes, well I hope they aren't all a mixture of four languages, it'll make working out what to do more challenging and time consuming," Hermione said, struggling to control the mirth behind her words. It had been a fun challenge deciphering his note.

"I'm going to have to inform the Minister Hermione," Harry said, looking at her before turning his eyes on Dolohov. "We'll need to do something about him."

"Yes, I just thought that, let me go over his notes. Do you trust me to make that decision?" Hermione said, offering her oldest friend a soft smile.

"Of course, but let's get him back before they send out my department to hunt me down," Harry said rolling his eyes.

Dolohov got to his feet, turning in a slow circle before he walked up to Hermione. He extended his hand slowly, eyes locked on hers as he did so. Those hazel eyes seemed to see past her exterior and into the depths of who she was, cutting into her the same way his spell had. She shivered but grasped his hand and spun them right back to the small interview room in Azkaban Prison. She and Harry spent the next ten minutes waiting on the Minister to arrive, who was luckily already informed of their departure so was already en route, and explaining to the guards that everything was going to be fine.

Hermione watched the guards subdue Dolohov again, but she knew now that it was all for show, at least for Dolohov. He wasn't bound to this prison, and yet he stayed.

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_To be continued. . ._

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Ty vyglyadela prekrasno = you looked beautiful


	5. Advice

**A/n: This muse is being super generous right now. Technically I had this chapter and the previous on the same day I posted three, but I figure giving you one a day is the best. Forgive me.**

**As always this is a Grammarly chapter.**

**Your reviews for this story have been so incredible, please keep them coming.**

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Advice _(n): an opinion or recommendation offered as a guide to action, conduct, etc_

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"Hermione, don't do this. Let me put him up at the Ministry," Harry said grumbling after her as she walked through her small London flat.

"Harry, you know very well why that is a bad idea. Getting Dolohov out of Azkaban while we figure this out is necessary, and already too many people know that he's not there," Hermione said flicking her wand in various directions. Her guest bedroom was suddenly free of dust, the wood floors looked newly polished, and the previously unkept bed was suddenly tucked with perfect corners.

"We talked to the guards, and the only person to know about this aside from them is Kingsley. Even if Rookwood gets word that Dolohov is out of Azkaban, he wouldn't know why," Harry said as a whoosh sounded from Hermione's fireplace as emerald flames erupted from inside.

"Hey Pans," Hermione called to Pansy Potter, as the witch brushed the ash from her robes.

"Hi 'Mione," Pansy paused as she walked to her husband. She gave him a soft kiss on the lips and whisper, "Hello lover."

"Pansy, please talk some sense into Hermione, she thinks it's a good idea to host Antonin Dolohov who's been given a temporary pass out of Azkaban," Harry said his eyebrow raised as he turned his Slytherin wife on her best friend.

"What the hell are you talking about? Dolohov is getting out?" Pansy said her eyebrows knitting together as her voice rose shrilly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and sat down on her couch, "Antonin Dolohov has figured out that we have a Death Eater in the Ministry, Augustus Rookwood, but he's going under another name. He works with me as an unspeakable, and Dolohov is convinced that he has spent the last two decades working on a way to overpower all wands."

Pansy stared at Hermione, her eyes narrowing the more she spoke before she turned to her husband. "Overpower all wands, what is this? Is this even possible?"

"It seems it is possible, and it seems that Rookwood may have already tested the theory," Harry said his shoulders lifting into a shrug.

Pansy was quiet for a few moments, her eyes staring into space, lost in thought. "My father, he was friends with Rookwood, before he was sent to Azkaban. I remember them talking about wands and wand allegiances. They talked about it a lot," Pansy's voice was soft, serving as a reminder to both Harry and Hermione that while they had always fought on the side of the light, the only path they had as an option. Pansy's past was darker than they could imagine.

Harry walked to his wife and pulled her into his arms, and Hermione reached out to grasp her hand, squeezing it.

"Alright so Dolohov, but surely it's not necessary for him to stay here," Pansy said after a few minutes, her voice shakey as she wiped her eyes.

"That's what I was trying to tell her, but she won't listen," Harry said.

"Look we saw him do wandless magic, if he wanted out of Azkaban, he would be out. He's staying there for a reason, and I need to go over all of his notes that he had. Half of these are in Russian and structured differently than our magic," Hermione said nodding at the stack of parchment on her coffee table.

When she and Harry had left Azkaban, leaving the Minister to secure the release of Dolohov, she had taken his scrolls with her. He had agreed, further proving to her that he was really just trying to aid them, and this wasn't some attempt to get out of Azkaban.

She couldn't say that she was comfortable with the idea of him sleeping under her roof, but she also knew that no magic could keep the renowned curse-breaker out if he decided he wanted to come to kill her. Just like at his trials four years ago, his eyes had rarely strayed from her, watching her, but she hadn't seen murderous intent in those hazel eyes since he had struck her with the curse that had almost cut her in half.

"He can stay in the Ministry, and you can come and go as you please if—," Harry's words were cut off as emerald flames sprang up in Hermione's fireplace once more.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was followed by Antonin Dolohov, who now wore a shirt and cotton jacket and jeans, and all the wands in the room raised except for Hermione's.

"Harry, Pansy, Hermione," Kingsley said nodding in the direction of each person as he moved further into the room, shuffling Dolohov forward.

Antonin Dolohov's hazel eyes flicked around the room taking in his surroundings before he sunk down into one of Hermione's armchairs, uncaring at the wands pointed in his direction. He crossed his leg, and leaned back, sighing heavily.

"Hermione what can I help with," Kingsley asked looking from the Russian wizard, shaking his head before he turned to Hermione.

"I think I've got it all in hand, thank you, Kingsley. Will an update tomorrow morning suffice?" Hermione asked, she stood up a little straighter and choose to ignore the growing tension in the room.

"Of course, all resources are at your disposal, I have to consult a few Heads before we can make a move against Rookwood and that will depend on what you figure out. I will inform Muldoon myself of your absence," Kingsley said nodding at Hermione and turned to Harry. "Do you think we can trust him with this information or any of the unspeakables?"

Harry looked off for a moment, "I think we'll need to conduct a formal interview of anyone who might work with us on this."

Kingsley nodded his face stricken, "I had hoped these things were behind us, at least for my lifetime."

Hermione, Harry, and Pansy all nodded and said their goodbyes to Kingsley as he left.

"Hermione, please consider what I had suggested, you can change your mind anytime, I'm only a floo call away," Harry said.

"We're both only a Floo call away," Pansy said with a smile which dropped from her face as she turned on Dolohov. "Dolohov, let me offer you some advice. I know you'll remember that night that my father hosted the Dark Lord. You remember what my father did to that muggle," Pansy paused waiting for the nod that came from Dolohov before she continued. "I'll make that look like a trip to the Joke Shop if you hurt Hermione in any way. I have all my father's old spell books, and while you may know your way around curses, you'll sure to know that curses aren't the only way to pain a man."

Dolohov's eyes widened momentarily before he smiled, "Miss Parkinson–,"

"It's Mrs Potter now," Pansy interrupted.

"Mrs Potter whether you are aware or not, I could have left Azkaban at any time in the last four years, but I am tired. Tired of fighting a war for beliefs I no longer hold. My past is what keeps me in that prison because I must atone for the crimes I have committed, regardless of their intent at the time," Dolohov said, his voice growing thick. "I have already hurt this witch enough for one lifetime, it will not happen again, even if it means the end."

Hermione wasn't the only one with wide eyes at his words, and though he avoided her look, she was sure his cheeks were reddening slightly.

"We'll be by tomorrow," Harry said finally, cutting the silence.

The Potters stepped into Hermione's fire once more and vanished through emerald flames. Hermione turned to a man who frequented her nightmares and steeled herself.

"Alright, Mr Dolohov let's find out more about this magic and how you plan to help us. But first, we'll need a cuppa," Hermione said and flicked her wand towards the hob where a kettle began to squeak.

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_To be continued. . ._


	6. Aurora

**A/n: this muse is determined and I honestly can't believe how easy writing this story has been.**

**As easy as it has been, it is still work, time that I don't put into other stories, so please leave the only currency I ask for. Reviews.**

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_Aurora (n): dawn_

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Hermione rubbed her eyes, hand clutching desperately at her cup of coffee. She and Dolohov had been up late the night previous, and she was beyond impressed at the work he had put into trying to solve this wand problem. The Russian wizard was a complete mystery to her, and nothing like what she had expected. She had known a few things about him, but she had formed her opinion of him from those details.

She had been convinced of his ruthlessness, how he could strike down a wizard without remorse, or how he turned her wand on her when she was just sixteen. She had left that fight barely alive, with a deep scar that crossed her abdomen, and health issues because of the damage to her internal organs. From those details, she was sure that he was a sociopath, who had found a cause worth killing for. What she had discovered in their lengthy conversations from the day before was a wizard who was sensitive, logical, and yet also creative.

Hermione had known from the stories she'd heard that he was a brilliant wizard who created curses and spells that destroyed his enemies, usually in ways that left a visual reminder or killed them in a truly horrific manner. Having been around him now, she knew that the stories of his intelligence were not exaggerated. Instead she had found herself talking with a man who could keep up with the relentless pace of her own mind, and who thought so similarly to her it was eerie, but who also thought about things she wasn't sure she would have ever considered.

She had resolved that when she next spoke to Harry, she would request the complete dossier on Dolohov, though she told herself it was so she would better understand his motivations for helping overcome Rookwood.

"Good morning, pchelka," Antonin Dolohov's gravelly voice broke Hermione from her reverie. She turned quickly to see him standing in the doorway to the kitchen, hands in his jeans pockets looking unsure.

"Good morning," Hermione said as she slid from her chair to refill her coffee mug. "Would you like some coffee or tea?"

His eyebrows rose up, almost meeting the long fringe that fell over his forehead, before he replied, "It has been many years since I had coffee, I would enjoy a cup."

Hermione nodded, and grabbed another mug and poured him coffee, "The sugar is right there, and there is cream in the icebox." Hermione indicated the small sugar bowl in the center of her kitchen table.

"Thank you, solnyshko," Dolohov said, taking careful steps into the kitchen before he sat down across from Hermione's spot.

Hermione watched curiously as he held the cup in his hands, and brought it up to his nose taking a whiff of the dark roast. He then stirred in two teaspoons of sugar before he finally took good a long drink of it. He had almost drained the mug before he sat it back down and turned his hazel eyes to Hermione.

"What is the plan for today?" Dolohov said, hands still holding his mug tightly.

"I sent an owl to Harry, but I think we might need to create a task force of sorts. Ainsworth – I mean Rookwood had requested two weeks vacation and is only a few days into it. So we're not even sure where he is, which means we need to move quickly before he can make a move against more wandmakers," Hermione explained, taking a quick sip of her own coffee. "The spells you created will need to be tested by more than just you and I, but in controlled settings to ensure they can be easily used by others and can hold up in an actual duel."

Hermione paused, biting her lower lip, "It's complicated magic, wandless magic, and while it may have once been innate-like you explained, it isn't any longer. In fact, most wizards struggle with it," She paused again, looking at him shrewdly. "Do you think he will move against lesser-known wandmakers before he goes after Ollivander?"

Antonin was quiet for a moment, before he answered, "The Dark Lord would have gone forth and attacked Ollivander without questioning the process, but Rookwood isn't like him. He's not impulsive, he's careful and incredibly logical. My guess is, yes he'll go after a few more before he's ready to challenge Ollivander. He'll be aware of the additional protections on Ollivander since the war ended."

Hermione nodded, she had assumed as much, which meant, possibly, more dead bodies and no way of knowing who he might target. "Do you think you could predict other wandmakers or should we concentrate our efforts on preparing for his attack against Ollivander?"

"I could name a dozen or so, but there are probably two to three dozen lesser known makers with varying degrees of skill that I don't know. If I were Rookwood, I would have tracked down the most unknown of the wandmakers to test the theory, so as not to attract the attention of the Ministry prematurely." Dolohov explained, his fingers running over his jaw, which was covered in a thick dark brown beard.

Hermione nodded, thinking about the next steps, "Harry should send a reply soon, and depending on what he's found out about Rookwood, we'll see what the best plan for today is. If he agrees to a taskforce than we'll need to be careful about who we bring in, the Ministry has changed its policy on Aurors, but this might make them change the policy to apply to all Ministry employees." Her voice trailed off as she was lost in thought again.

"We'll fight him, pchelka. I'll do whatever it takes to keep him from gaining this power," Dolohov said, his voice low near growling that made Hermione look at him. He was looking away from her now, but his eyes were narrowed.

Hermione went for a different track of the conversation, "Why do you call me pchelka and solnyshko, Dolohov?"

She almost let out an audible gasp when she saw his cheeks redden, embarrassment clear on his features and he now avoided her look. He wiped his hands on his dark jeans before he brought them to clutch his mug again.

"I'm not sure if I should say, I don't want to scare you," Dolohov said, his voice barely a whisper.

Hermione decided if this partnership they were currently in was going to work, she needed to know, and she needed him, to be honest.

"Dolohov, you and I have a rough past. It was an incredible leap of faith I took when I not only agreed to visit you in Azkaban, but apparating you out of there, and then allowing you to take my guest bedroom. I think you owe me the honest answer, regardless if it shocks or scares me. I've fought Voldemort," Dolohov flinched, but Hermione carried on. "I was tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange, I Obliviated my parents and when I tried to undo it found that it was irreversible, and I've been almost split in half by you. I'm not sure there is anything you could say that would compare to those experiences."

Dolohov's eyes had widened the more she spoke, but as soon as she mentioned the attack he had made on her, he looked down, shame lining his features. "You're right, I am sorry for my cowardice. I owe you honesty and so much more."

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_To be continued. . ._

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Solnyshko - little sun

Pchelka - little bee


	7. Apologies

**A/n: Dear readers I am in search of someone who is willing to read this dear story as I write it. I'm currently writing it exceptionally fast, but want to make sure everything is flowing well and receive feedback as I write. The way I'm currently posting means that I'm sharing chapters I haven't looked at in a week + So I would greatly appreciate if anyone is interested. If you are please have a facebook account, as messenger is the easiest way for me to communicate.**

**This past week I received an honestly discouraging and _rude_  review. Someone who hated any Death Eater + Hermione pairings, who thought to make them fall in love was sick and disgusting. Well, I have just one question for that reviewer: what are you doing reading them than? For that reader/reviewer I'd just like to say, I'm sorry you felt the need to spend your time hating on my writing and the writing of Death Eaters + Hermione, in general. You wasted your own time, and mine because I read your trash review, but there is enough fanfiction out in the world that you should be able to find something you like. Your disdain for Death Eaters is obvious, so maybe just ignore any stories that feature them.**

**This reviewer also said that "begging" for reviews is unbecoming of me, and I'll answer that with, I don't feel I'm begging. I feel mentioning at the beginning of every chapter is a reminder to the people who read this story that every word is compiled into a story that hopefully you enjoy. And if you happen to enjoy the words I've shared here that you would share your own words with me.**

**In the future to reviewers who believe it's appropriate to leave reviews like this one, please be aware that while I was capable of receiving this review and finding it ridiculous, not _everyone_  in the fandom will be able to receive that review on a bad day and not let it affect their mood or self-esteem.**

**"Words are, in my not so humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic." -JK Rowling**

**Use your magic wisely, cast your spells carefully, and remember that not everyone has a Protego at the ready.**

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_Apology_ _(n): a written or spoken expression of one's regret, remorse, or sorrow for having insulted, failed, injured, or wronged another._

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Hermione sat quietly waiting, watching as he seemed to gather his courage, his eyes fluttering side to side as his mind raced.

"I call you those names because you've become something of a rukovodstvo for me. You silenced me, and in that silence, as my spell continued to work, but much slower than it was designed to do, I saw you, really saw you. You were a girl, a student and I was ready to kill you because of his orders because I had misplaced my loyalty," Dolohov paused, and he raised both his hands to run through his hair, looking quite disheveled. "It is a long story how I came to be in the Dark Lord's service, one that I will not trouble you with, but at that moment I saw something I hadn't seen since I was a student myself, the human at the end of my wand."

Hermione swallowed, this was so much deeper than she had supposed, and the more he talked, the more she flushed. She had never been so ignorant to think that all of the Death Eaters were just there because of blood purity, that wasn't how gangs and cults formed. They formed because people were broken humans who longed for something.

She had spent a full year in therapy following the war, working with a lone Healer at St. Mungo's who's muggle heritage had shown him the importance of working on the mind and healing it. Hermione couldn't remember the number of conversations she had with Dr. Ekles about Antonin Dolohov, everything from her anger because of her lasting health issues from his curse, to her crying out for an explanation as to why he would hurt her or why anyone hurt other people.

"I sat in my cell after the Ministry, fighting the pain that refused to be pushed down. For the first time since I cast my first unforgivable, I felt remorse, because of you, pchelka. I would ask the Dark Lord for tasks that involved you, I tried to find you before any Snatchers could get their hands on you, but you had hidden away so carefully. I convinced him that I was obsessed with you, which wasn't far off, but my obsession was not with killing you. It was with you, your brilliant light, that refused to be snuffed out with my curse." Dolohov paused, his voice cracking and full of unspoken emotion. Hermione's mind racing. "I have sat in Azkaban every day because I hurt you and so many others, but I wouldn't have stayed there and served the sentence I deserve if you hadn't opened my eyes. Every night before I sleep, I recite the names of the people who died or were injured at the end of my wand. I will never forget them, I don't deserve to be here, but I will do my best with what life I have left."

Dolohov finished speaking, his shoulders sagging as though a great weight had lifted, but his words seemed to have taken a toll. His eyes were downcast, but Hermione could see tears collecting in them, and she reached forward, grasping his hand that clutched her mug.

"Thank you for being honest Dolohov," she paused, choosing her next words carefully. "Why didn't you come to us during the war, turn spy like Severus?"

"I didn't know it was an option, until afterward but if I had, if I had thought that I could contact a member of the Order without being killed on sight, I would have. Please believe me solnyshko; if it hadn't been for the Dark Mark on my arm, I would have fled," He swallowed before looking at Hermione, his eyes wide and hopeful. "Do you remember what I told you at my final trail?"

"Yes, I remember it," Hermione stated, finally letting go of his hand.

"I did not kill Remus Lupin; I did not cast a single killing curse during the Battle. I used nonverbal Impediments the whole time."

Hermione looked at him sharply, "You know I have no reason to believe you."

"If you have veritaserum I will drink it; you can ask me anything you wish. Solnyshko, I owe you more than my life; I owe you, my very soul."

Hermione thought carefully before she finally responded, "I will ask Harry to bring some with him; it would help set my mind at ease that you are truly here to help us."

Dolohov's lips raised in a soft smile, and though he had finally told her everything, the room was still tense. "Would it be possible for me to use your facilities?"

Hermione gasped, realizing she hadn't shown him where they were, and that he must have been waiting all night. "Oh, of course, they are the second door on the left, just one door down from mine. There are clean towels in the small chest in there, and there should be standard toiletries in the box beneath the sink, help yourself."

Dolohov smiled, "Thank you pchelka."

Hermione leaned back in her chair after Dolohov left and she listened to his steps on the wooden floors and into the bathroom. He had laid his soul bare before her, and she had no idea what to do with it. She knew there were things left unsaid, especially about his past and the shift in him during the war, but she wasn't sure she needed to know.

Shaking her head, she stood and walked into her family room and sat down at the small desk she had tucked into the corner. She grabbed a scroll and began to write out a list of questions to ask Dolohov under veritaserum, and after she felt she had come up with the right amount, she sat that list aside and grabbed another sheet of parchment.

Hermione carefully laid out everything they knew thus far in a bulleted list, everything she knew from what Dolohov had shared. His theories went next, about Rookwood's steps and possible actions, her theories went below his, including the measures they would need to take if they were to set up a task force. She knew she wouldn't have to convince Harry or Kings of the extreme measures she was suggesting, but it weighed heavy on her.

While she might not mind dosing Dolohov, a known ex-death eater and murderer, forcing Ministry employees to undergo veritaserum to be sure of their allegiances was a bit much. If she hadn't already subjected herself to a similar interview because of her work in the Department of Mysteries, she wouldn't have known it was a possibility or been remotely ok at the prospect.

She heard the pipes in her flat shudder as water ran up to the shower where Dolohov was, and it was then that it struck her. Antonin Dolohov, ex-death eater, and murderer was currently in her bathroom, naked. Hermione's cheeks flushed at the thought, knowing that the only person who had ever been naked in her flat was her. Maybe Pansy had been right when she had been pushing Hermione over the last few months to go out on a date.

Hermione had bought this flat, which was within walking distance to some of her favorite pubs and just a few blocks from the Leaky Cauldron. She had sold her parents old home after she had returned from Australia, without them. Unable to reverse the memory charm she had cast on them, she had grieved the death-like loss of her parents before Harry had encouraged her to find another way to be in their lives. So with careful plans, she had been able to buy a house down from their own. She had reintroduced herself as Mia James, an overworked office manager from London who loved going on holiday on Hamilton Island because of her fascination with the Great Barrier Reef.

She honestly hadn't spared a minute at the reef, instead trying to run into her parents as often as possible, even arranging to get her six-month dental checkups with them. It was better than nothing, as Harry had said, and after her last trip, she had established enough of a relationship with her mother to begin sending post.

A soft tap sounded from the large window in front of her, Hermione looked up to see a handsome tawny owl with a Ministry tag fixed to one of its clawed feet. She grabbed the scroll that was tied to the other and plucked some owl treats from the canister beside the window. With a rush of wings, the owl set back off with an appreciative hoot.

Hermione unrolled the tight scroll, her eyes moving quickly over Harry's messy writing, growing more discouraged as she read on. It seemed that Harry and Kingsley hadn't been able to gather much more information than Dolohov had already provided, which was disconcerting. Harry had set Malfoy to track Rookwood and hoped to hear back from him soon.

After this morning's conversation with Dolohov, her past and the war seemed so close, closer than it had. Her thoughts went to all the individual pieces that had made up the battle to rid Voldemort, and how each piece came with their own story and motivations. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if there were others like Dolohov who had seen the light but been unable to act on it. Her mind's eye brought the face of Draco Malfoy, and she knew that he was one of those individuals, caught up in war and finding themselves on the wrong side.

Hermione's heart grew heavy, and quiet tears fell from her eyes, as she glanced over the photos that graced her mantle, and her eyes caught on Pansy Potter, another victim of a war that started when they were children, family allegiances deciding which side they would stand on. After all the war ended, those Hogwarts students who saw the light had come out publically, forming a coalition. Pansy and Draco had spearheaded the organization whose simple aim was to give resources to students at Hogwarts who felt they couldn't speak for themselves and found themselves in situations beyond their control.

Pansy, the once snobbish Slytherin was now her best friend's wife. The traits that had sorted her into Salazar's house, proving to be everything Harry needed. She was loyal, turning her back on her family and anyone who didn't align with her new morals, choosing instead to stand beside Harry. Her cunning nature had earned her an order of silence on anything the press would publish on Harry that wasn't checked with Pansy first. Hermione had stood beside Harry at their wedding, and saw the thing he had always needed, family. Pansy had found a way to create a world where just she and Harry dwelled, a private place where Harry could heal and finally receive the love he deserved.

Draco Malfoy stood in the same photograph of the wedding party of the Potters wedding, his arm around Pansy, as he had served as her best mate, a position he had taken on with all of his arrogance. He had been the one to walk Pansy down the aisle when her family had turned their backs, and he was the first person to toast the new couple. His worst characteristics now only served him in his work as an Auror, and just like Pansy they had all seen a different side to Draco, one they hadn't imagined was there. He was as protective as Pansy, more cunning, and smarter than most everyone else, except for Hermione, herself. He had risen through the ranks of Aurors quickly, ready for the challenge that his last name brought him. He had undergone many interrogations under veritaserum that were watched by select Departments at the Ministry. Now engaged to Luna Lovegood, she softened him even more, leaving the Draco Malfoy who had attended Hogwarts and taken the Dark Mark at sixteen, a shadow.

Hermione jumped when a finger slid along her cheek, capturing a stray tear. She turned her glassy brown eyes and saw Antonin standing over her. He wasn't wearing a shirt, though she saw it was in her other hand.

"What is wrong pchelka?" His whispered, dropping down so that they were eye level. For a moment Hermione understood what Dolohov had said to her just minutes ago. She didn't see him right now as the wizard who had cursed her but as a broken human who had made mistakes.

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_To be continued. . ._

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Rukovodstvo - guide


	8. Arousal

**A/n: I wrote this chapter one night and almost released three chapters ahead of it just so you all could have this single one. I've teased the chapter in my group. If you're not apart of it already, please come join us!**

**Like every other chapter, this has not seen a beta and only my eyes.**

**Your words mean so much to me so please leave something to keep feeding the muse.**

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_Arousal (n):_ _the action or fact of arousing or being aroused._

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Hermione hiccuped, "Oh it's nothing. I'm just super emotional."

"It must be something," Antonin continued, he squatted down next to her so he could be eye level with her.

She couldn't help but smile as she looked at him, a far cry from how she had felt about him just two days ago. "I just realised how much has changed, how much I've changed and it feels like someone else is coming along trying to ruin everything we've created."

Hermione brushed another stray tear as it tried to track down her cheek, and she looked into the softening hazel eyes. She realised she was struggling to place the face before her with the face of the man who had hurt her so many years ago. His look was softer, less gaunt then it had been at the Ministry, which she chalked up to the difference in Azkaban stays from then to now. While the prisoners at Azkaban might never call their stay comfortable, it no longer involved Dementors, less food than they needed, or access to basic medical care.

He had grown out his beard, which was trimmed close to his face, but softened the harsh lines of his angular face. His hair was longer than it had been in those days, and he kept it back and loose, and she had noticed that the ends tended to curl along the nape of his neck. The lines on his face were just beginning to show, and she wondered briefly how old he was.

"We will stop him, pchelka. He will not ruin your happiness," Antonin said his voice soft as he swiped another tear off her cheek.

Hermione cleared her throat and gave Antonin a warm smile. His words warmed her, leaving her confused and thrown off a little. She barely knew this wizard and what she did know wasn't good. She kept losing her footing around this version of him. "Harry wrote back," she paused as Antonin backed away and went to sit on the couch behind her. "It seems Rookwood has been very good at keeping what he is working on private. Even Muldoon isn't fully aware of what he's doing, though that's not entirely uncommon in the Department."

"What are you working on?" Antonin asked, and if Hermione wasn't mistaken, there was a hint of playfulness in his tone.

"It's not worth my job to tell you, no offense," Hermione said with a sly smile. She hadn't discussed her project with anyone, including Muldoon, which was sometimes just the way it was. The unspeakables were answerable to almost no one which was why Rookwood had gotten away with what he had.

"I'll find out eventually, solnyshko," Antonin said, and he winked at her, and she couldn't help but smile a little bit at the way his mood had changed him.

"Sending owls might go on forever, let me just send Harry a Patronus so we can get to the point, I hate waiting around on owls," Hermione said rolling her eyes. She picked up her wand and quickly cast the charm that called her playful otter.

"Harry can you stop by the flat, we need to talk. Grab Kings if he's available," Hermione said before flicking her wand away. Silver mist hung in its wake for a few seconds before it disappeared.

"I'm going to go change, and I'll be down in a few minutes," Hermione said, standing from her desk.

"Oh solnyshko, do you happen to have another shirt?" Antonin asked his voice sheepish.

Hermione looked at the shirt grasped in his hand and noticed it was soaking wet. She had been trying to ignore Antonin's exposed upper body, but now that he drew her attention to it, she couldn't control her reaction to his very masculine physique. It had been a long time since she had enjoyed the pleasures of a man, and it seemed she would need to remedy that if she was going to be seeing Antonin shirtless regularly, "Oh, I might have something that I can charm."

"Thanks, it fell into the toilet when I threw it off. I do apologise for the inconvenience," Antonin added under his breath.

"It's not a problem, things happen. I'll be right back," Hermione said, turning her eyes away from Antonin.

She felt so out of sorts for a Tuesday, she usually would have gone through her morning routine before preparing to depart for the Ministry. One of the many things she did before she left was to give herself an orgasm, she found she could concentrate better when that was out of the way. Her work was mentally exhausting and required delicate magic that if she wasn't perfectly calm could backfire rather quickly. Without her morning orgasm, she was noticing an increased amount of emotion and irritability.

Maybe she should take care of things while Antonin is downstairs thinking she's getting dressed. Today was bound to be a very frustrating day, and she would have a clearer mind if she took care of things. Resolved she pushed her door closed and went to her nightstand. She quickly stripped her clothes, leaving them in a pile next to her bed, she grabbed her favorite nipple clamps, needing the extra stimulation if she was going to try and get this done quickly. She extracted her favorite dildo and her magic wand, which she plugged in.

Hermione twisted her nipples enough to bring them to points, and she attached the nipple clamps that had weights that fell to the side, so they would keep stimulating her if she moved. She rubbed the long purple dildo up and down her already wet slit, soaking it before she pushed it in slowly. As it spread her open, she moaned momentarily forgetting that she had company downstairs. Resolving to be quieter she switched on her magic wand, cast her charms on the dildo and went to work.

She focused on one of her favorite fantasies that involved quite a bit of roughness and a bad boy, every woman's fantasy, but as she teased her sensitive clit with her wand, a certain Russian wizard kept flashing into her mind. The thought of Antonin was causing serious confusion in her mind, and she was struggling to focus on the task at hand. Hermione could feel her frustration growing as she willed the thrusting to speed up when it finally brushed her gspot. Clenching her jaw she focused in, imaging that wizard gripping her hair, pulling her back while in doggy style until she was almost flush against his body and he thrust into her hard.

Unbidden Antonin Dolohov's face was now the face of the wizard who fucked her until she couldn't breathe, and Hermione began to approach the cliff. Her core was tightening, and the tight cable that was wound inside her was nearing the point it would soon break. Almost as though he had been summoned by her fantasies, she heard a noise of exclamation and saw Antonin standing outside her door, her door open just a bit. Her eyes connected with his and suddenly she was falling, her moans echoed the small space around her and the whole time he kept his eyes locked on hers. The more he watched, the more turned on she became, and the combination of his finding her and the image of him pounding into her from her fantasy was too much. She clenched down on her dildo again, forcing it from her tight sheath which a loud groan.

Hermione's cheeks flamed, and she finally caught onto the world around her. With a shriek she slammed the door shut with wandless magic, horror making her body shake. She had just been caught masturbating by a wizard who had tried to kill her, and not only had he caught her but he had been her fantasy.

How would she ever face Antonin Dolohov again?

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_To be continued. . ._


	9. After

**A/n: I cannot believe how fast this story is writing itself, I just wish it was my original fiction, but it's not so I get to share this with you wonderful readers.**

**Let me know if you would like me to start posting daily updates, I have probably a week ahead of time at this point.**

**I cannot wait for you to see what's going to happen in the next few chapters, I'll warn you now things will begin to heat up between our two lovebirds.**

**As always reviews breathe life into my muse.**

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_After (prep): in the time following an event._

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Antonin sat down on Hermione's couch, he still felt uncomfortable in her flat, but he was sure he would feel unsettled no matter where he was now that he was out of Azkaban. He had been nervous about telling the witch how much she meant to him, but he owed her an explanation, and so he had given it. He had expected her to run for the hills, curse him, or call the Ministry to have him removed, but she had surprised him by doing none of that.

Instead, he had enjoyed a warm shower for the first time in years. He had allowed himself to stand under the almost scalding water for longer then he would typically have, but between the water that began to unknot his muscles and Hermione's pervading fragrance in the small bathroom, he hadn't felt the need to rush. Antonin had been embarrassed when thoughts of the witch had caused his cock to harden, and for the first time, he acknowledged that he didn't just see her as a guiding force in his life, but as a perfect example of a witch.

He shook his head, leaning back on the sofa knowing these thoughts were pointless, and he would only end up disappointed that even something like a friendship with the witch wasn't possible. Not only had he attacked her years earlier, but they had fought against each other for too long. No, his witch deserved someone good, not someone who had been too weak to stand up for himself. She didn't deserve someone who had such a troubled past.

Antonin's eyes scanned the small room, noticing the charmed bookcases, and he stood up to go explore. He had access to some books at Azkaban but nothing like these, not true magical books. He smirked when he realized the intricacies of the charm she had wrought to create her bookshelf that had unlimited room. It almost seemed like he could visualize the books he was most interested in, and they would appear before him.

His cheeks were flushing when the magical textbooks shifted to books of a more intimate nature. He had to swallow when he noticed that the Brunette witch had an extensive collection of BDSM books in her collection. His eyebrow shot up when he saw her themes, it appeared the Brightest Witch of Her Age seemed to have a submissive streak.

Unbidden Antonin's cock began to grow again, and he cursed Morgana that he hadn't chosen a different path in life, because it appeared he was in the presence of the perfect witch. He refocused his thoughts, and advanced charms books appeared before him. His hand was an inch away from Charmed Life: A Companion for Household spells, when he heard a high pitched moan.

Antonin's eyes flicked towards the hallway, where Hermione was supposed to be. Suddenly his heart racing he worried that she could be in danger, and he took quick steps towards her bedroom. Her door was cracked a little, and with a quick glance around her room, Antonin saw the reason for the sound.

His hazel eyes locked onto Hermione's face, which was contorted in passion, eyes closed as she used a long round device to rub against her clit even as a phallic shaped instrument thrust in and out of her core. Antonin's erection, which had already been teased this morning, was suddenly rock hard and straining against the confines of his jeans. As his gaze traveled over the witch, he noticed that she had added weighted nipple clamps to her pebbled nipples, and he couldn't help but lick his lips. His focus stayed on her dusky rose areola for longer than he cared to admit and he wanted nothing more than to rush into the room and take care of her needs himself.

As he watched, she seemed to be reaching her end, as her hand moved the instrument over her clit faster, and the charmed penis thrust more quickly. She let out a breathy moan, and suddenly Antonin lost all control.

"Mother of Merlin," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, but her eyes flew open.

Antonin was shocked when instead of screaming at him, cursing him, or even flinging the door shut, her eyes met his. She gazed at him, her pupils dilated in her lust, and her movements grew positively violent before she seemed to reach her edge and she moaned out her pleasure. The phallic instrument fell from her passage, her tightness forcing it from her body.

Next moment, her mind seemed to catch up with what was happening, and she shrieked, raising her hand and the door shut in his face with a definite click. Antonin noticed that his hand had moved down to the tent in his jeans, as he rubbed his hardness lightly.

Without more thought, he backed up and walked into her bathroom. He quickly locked and warded the door with more wandless magic, and unbuttoned his pants. He fisted his erection now, and he groaned loudly as he jerked himself only four times before he came. His load was shot in front of him, most of it landing on her white tiled floor. He leaned back against the wall, catching his breath. Antonin couldn't believe what he had just watched, and he was fighting every instinct to head back out there and help the witch out.

He shook his head, steadying his mind and grabbed a tissue to clean up his ejaculate. Antonin left the bathroom for the living room without a backwards glance at her door. He sat back down on the sofa, determined that he wouldn't make it awkward for the young witch. He understood the need to see to your own needs, especially at times of stress, and he knew she was on edge. However, no matter how many times he told himself that it was a natural stress reliever, he couldn't ignore the picture his mind kept supplying of his watch laid out, orgasming as her eyes met his.

Antonin was sure he would never forget that image his whole life. He closed his eyes, willing his mind to get back to the current issue that was Rookwood and his quest to take over the world. He heard movement back down the hallway before he felt her enter the room.

"Ummm, I'm not sure what to say," Hermione said, her voice fluttering and without looking Antonin knew her cheeks would be bright red and with that thought, he wondered what her other cheeks would look like bright red. He cleared his throat forcing that thought away before he turned to her.

"You have nothing to explain, solnyshko. That is a normal part of the human experience, and I have found it particularly usual in times of stress. When I was a curse breaker it was a normal part of my daily routine," Antonin explained, finally turning towards her.

He had been right, her cheeks were flaming red, and she was biting her bottom lip, and he wished he could kiss her lips and pull it out to suck on it. Antonin almost growled out loud at the direction of his thoughts, if he didn't get a better hold on himself, he was going to find their time together miserable and almost impossible.

"Why don't we move on. You had mentioned a task force, what specifically would they be working on?" Antonin asked, hoping she would take the chance to change the subject.

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_To be continued. . ._


	10. Accuracy

**A/n: It's my last day of vacation, and I feel like sharing with you wonderful readers another chapter in the Antonin & Hermione saga. I only had a few of you ask for daily updates, but I really want to share this story so I'm going to do it anyways.**

**I haven't been able to write as frequently because of vacation, but next week I'm back home and ready to go.**

**Reviews = love**

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_Accuracy (n):_ _the condition or quality of being true, correct, or exact; freedom from error or defect; precision or exactness; correctness._

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Harry had finally arrived back at Hermione's flat, holding a dossier on Dolohov, that Hermione sat aside to be read later, and a vial of Veriteserum.

"Do you want me here while you conduct the interview?" Harry asked, handing everything over to the brunette witch while the Russian wizard watched, unconcerned.

"Didn't you say you had to get back to begin performing your own interviews of the Aurors?" Hermione asked raising her eyebrow at her best friend.

"I know, but I'm happy to help," Harry said his observant eyes taking in a slight difference in the air between Hermione and Dolohov.

"No I can handle it, you have a lot to do before we get everyone moved to the safe house. I'll head over after the interview to inform the house-elves and ready the wards for everyone," Hermione said she hugged Harry tightly, loving him for his protectiveness of her, but they both knew she could take care of herself.

"Alright, well I have to make a stop by Grimmuald to let Pansy know about the plans. She's going to be in a right state when I tell her I'll be gone for an uncertain amount of time," Harry said as he pulled back from Hermione.

"Have her come, it'll keep her sane and honestly she might be helpful. In fact, have Draco bring Luna too, we all know he'll turn into a prat if he can't get home to her," Hermione said, humor in her words thinking of the Slytherin prince who whined incessantly when he couldn't be near Luna.

"Good idea," Harry said. "I'll see you in a few hours, let me know if you need anything. Neville, Draco, and I all have our coins, I'll grab one for Kings as well."

Hermione nodded and waited until the emerald flames had died back down before she turned to face Antonin. Her cheeks still flamed every time she had to look at him, and her mind would play the humiliating scene over again.

"Alright solnyshko, get your questions ready and give me the potion," Antonin said a smirk on his features. He had been interrogated under truth serum countless times, but he was most excited at the prospect of this interview. He knew that he would share private things that the witch would find uncomfortable if she asked questions about what he thought of her, but it was also the least awkward way to get it out of the way. She would bear the brunt of the awkwardness depending on the questions she asked. He watched her eye the serum, "Three drops should afford you enough time."

Hermione nodded and unstoppered the vial before she dropped three drops into a glass and handed it to Dolohov. He downed it quickly and leaned back on her couch. It took all of thirty seconds for his pupils to dilate and shrink as the potion took effect. She fished out the list she had written of questions, as well as opened the dossier Harry had just provided her.

Flipping through the first few pages of his file, she found a limited amount of information about his early years, but long lists of his crimes.

"Ok Dolohov, to begin with, please state your full name and birthday to check the effectiveness," Hermione said.

"Antonin Maksim Dolohov, born third of November nineteen fifty-four to Maksim and Natashia Dolohov," Antonin said his voice monotone.

"Thank you. Are you a convicted Death Eater and what are your crimes?" Hermione asked, interested to know what he considered to be his criminal actions.

"Yes, I served the Dark Lord faithfully until nineteen ninety-six. I am convicted of three counts of murder, seventeen counts of attempted murder, twenty-two counts of cruelty to muggles, and one count of illegal entry to the Ministry," Dolohov said.

Hermione was somewhat shocked, he had gotten all of his, and she wondered if he really did feel remourse for his crimes. "Do you feel remourse for any of your crimes?"

"Yes, I regret partaking in the murder of Fabian and Gideon Prewett and using my wand against them. I regret joining the Dark Lord at the Battle of Hogwarts and the deaths that occurred there. I also regret the torture that I put muggles through over the years," Antonin's voice was bored as he answered.

Hermione paused, he had not mentioned remorse for attacking her.

"Do you regret attacking me at the Department of Mysteries?" Hermione asked, aware of the edge to her voice.

"No, if I had not attacked you I would never have seen your beauty and vitality and realised the error of my ways. I am sorry that I attacked you, and that you are scared of me, but I cannot regret the force that guided me to the right path," Antonin said, his voice had risen slightly sounding more emotional than it had.

Hermione was stunned and remained silent as she digested what he had just shared. His apology had seemed genuine, but nothing could beat the accuracy of veritaserum. He was telling the truth, and she couldn't help but begin to see him differently.

As she looked over her questions, she realised that many of them were just invasions of his privacy. Asking about his early life, why he had joined up with Voldemort, in the beginning, were all things she wasn't sure she needed to know. She decided on another question, one that she would need to have an answer for.

"What is your motivation for helping us catch Rookwood?"

"The last thing this world needs is another dark wizard looking to control everything. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I sat safely behind bars while Rookwood took over and endangered you," Antonin stated, his voice slipping back to a monotonous tone.

Hermione's eyes widened as his selfless actions became even more apparent.

"At the end if we catch Rookwood do you want to be let out of Azkaban?"

"No, I deserve to pay for my crimes."

Hermione couldn't believe her ears, he didn't want to get out.

"What do you want if you help us catch Rookwood?"

"I dream of having your friendship, but I know I don't deserve it."

Hermione swallowed, her heart racing as she stared at the Russian wizard. His gaze unfocused as he waited for another question. She wished that Harry had been here to hear what he had to say, now. No one would believe that Antonin Dolohov was doing this because he genuinely wanted to keep another wizard from gaining power over their world.

She suddenly wanted to ask what he thought about her if he fantasised about her the way she had just been caught doing but knew that even if she requested it now, he would remember all of her questions. She would be mortified if he found out she had thought of him while she brought herself to orgasm.

"Are all the spells and notes that you have provided me with exactly as described and outlined? There is no dark magic hidden amongst your notes, and you have no intention of being let free or taking over?" Hermione asked, needing to know his answer flat out.

"Everything is as it appears, I deserve to be in Azkaban, and I wait for the day I return."

Hermione sat in stunned silence, unable to ask him any more questions, as her mind raced. This was a different man then she had known. He wasn't the same person she had met in the Department of Mysteries, and he wasn't the man who answered only in Russian at his trial. Even there he had goaded her a bit, no this man was new, and Hermione couldn't help but be curious about what else she would discover about him.

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_To be continued. . ._


	11. Assemblage

**A/n: We are officially on daily updates, so let's hope that the muse continues to talk this week. We are getting to some of my favourite chapters, but I want to be clear their relationship will take a specific path because of the way the plot will happen. I'm just giving you fair warning before anyone accuses me of forcing things to fast. I promise it pans out.**

**Thank you so much for all your kind words, truly I am so grateful.**

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_Assemblage (n):_ _a group of persons or things gathered or collected_

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Hermione cleared her throat as she gazed out at the small contingent of witches and wizards that were currently gathered at a Ministry Safehouse in the South of England. There were in the large ballroom of an old manor that had every possible security measure on it. Dolohov was sitting in a chair along the wall, and only a handful of the people assembled before her had noticed his existence, and they all were staring from her to Harry to Kingsley in quick succession.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, can I have your attention please," Hermione said, her voice clear as it echoed softly off the walls of the grand room. She hastily wiped her hands down her long black and grey polka-dot pencil skirt.

The entire group quieted and turned their attention to her, and looking to her, before turning their gaze to Harry who stepped up.

"As you all are aware we are currently in the process of preparing for a very sensitive investigation and mission. You all are here because of your personal connections to the three of us or your knowledge of the subject matter," Harry took a breath. "You all have submitted yourself, again, to an interview with Truth Serum, for which the Minister and I are grateful. We hate to make it a regular part of your job, but as we've explained in the past, we will not allow infiltration in the Ministry."

"I am here only to aid with any bureaucratic red tape you might find yourselves up against. I will be kept informed by either Auror Potter or Unspeakable Granger as to the progress and movements of this group." Kingsley paused looking at Harry and Hermione in turn. "I want you all to be prepared that this mission could very well take much of your time, and owls are going to be available for you to inform your families. As of now, this is your home base for this investigation, you will stay here, interview your suspects here, and report back here."

Hermione noticed the curious looks on all the faces before her and stepped forward, "If you could all summon one of the information dossiers from the table over there," she paused to indicate a table on the opposite wall from Antonin, who she avoided looking at. "In there you will find everything we know up til now, but I want to explain to you all the delicacy of this investigation."

"Augustus Rookwood, an ex-Death Eater has infiltrated the Ministry and has been working in my department for quite the last three years. He is currently living as Algernon Ainsworth, which I'm sure some of you have seen or even spoken to. We did not find out this information until an informant came forward to not only out Rookwood but to share a plan that had been started during the first half of Voldemort's reign. Mr Dolohov is here on loan from Azkaban, he has made no requests of us but has instead provided us with many details of Rookwood's possible plan, he has created spells for us to use in the battle against Rookwood if it comes to that."

Hermione paused and indicated Antonin with her hand, and quickly looked away, "We understand this may make some of you weary, but he has since his release been interviewed under Truth Serum, like the rest of us, his motivations are to stop Rookwood."

"Now let me explain what Rookwood has been working on," Hermione summoned a folder of her own and opened it to the first sheet of parchment, waiting for the rest to do the same. "As you can see from these transcribed notes, a loophole has been found in the creation and usage of wands, throughout the world. How this loophole hasn't been exploited already, is a miracle. For now, Ollivander, our many concern, is under additional protections, but we are unable to remove him without raising suspicions, and we're not ready to play our hand just yet."

Harry flipped to the relevant page in his folder, before he explained, "Some of you will be charged with tracking down other wandmakers, particularly smaller wandmakers that Rookwood might target to continue testing his method. If you flip to the next page, you will see the Prophet clipping and owl we received from Uganda verifying the deaths of a wandmaker there. Mr Dolohov has prepared a list, on the following page, of other wandmakers he knows of. We will provide you with photos of Ainsworth and Rookwood. You will travel in pairs and be granted International Apparition access and emergency Portkey tokens, we need to find out who he has visited, if at all. You are not to attack unless you are attacked, that is an order."

"The rest of you will be here with Harry, Mr Dolohov, and myself. As mentioned Mr Dolohov has created spells that are wandless but defensive in nature. If Rookwood is able to overtake Ollivander's wand and gain control of the Isles wands, we will need to be prepared to go head to head with him without our wands. You will alternate days here and at the Ministry, so as not to raise suspicion there. On the far end of this home is a training room, you will work in pairs to use these spells, with Mr Dolohov and myself being present to assist you. During your training he and I will be working together to create other spells, as we don't have anything that could stun or subdue him for long," Hermione said looking around the group.

"There is a small group of house-elves here who will help assist us while we enjoy the hospitality of their home, once you have received your assignments you will follow them to your rooms. An owl is waiting in each room, so please write to your families. If there is an emergency within your family, or there is a cause that you must be with them, we might ask them to come stay here in a closed off wing. As Mrs Potter and Miss Lovegood as Harry and Draco's absence will be noted quickly," Hermione nodded at the two witches who stood by the doors to the ballroom, talking amongst each other and ignoring the group entirely.

"We are avoiding raising the alarm at the Ministry, so we ask that whatever steps you need to take to make it look like business as normal is advisable," Kingsley said, a sharp look at the entire group. "We are already in danger of Rookwood catching on to us, with the removal of Dolohov from Azkaban."

The large group of Aurors all nodded, and Hermione was confident they had picked the best people for this job.

"Longbottom and Conners, Bones and Corner, Ackerly and Walfort you will be our pairs to travel, please follow Kingsley to the Ministry to be granted Apparation access and your tokens. He will also be giving you three your lists," Hermione said, indicating the various individuals. "The rest of you, please follow the house-elves who will show you to your rooms. It is currently five, we will have dinner in the Dining Hall which is three rooms down from here at six."

Hermione smiled at the group, all of who headed in their various directions. Harry and Draco walked off to their significant others, and Kingsley was leading his group over to the fireplace to Floo to the Ministry. This left Hermione standing in the middle of the room alone, she twisted her hands awkwardly realising she had nowhere else to go but over to Dolohov to show him to his room, which would be adjacent to her own. The charms that were keeping him locked to her location still in place.

"Missus," a small voice squeaked from Hermione's side. She turned to see one of the house-elves, Mits, in a yellow dress her bright green eyes staring up at Hermione.

"Oh yes, Mits right?" Hermione asked.

"Yes Missus, do you wants Mits to set the wards now?"

"Oh, I totally forgot," Hermione turned to Kingsley who was almost at the fireplace. "Kings hold on a moment, everyone else stay where you are."

Kingsley and his group turned around, and the other group of Aurors all turned to stare at Hermione.

"The house-elves need to set the wards," Hermione explained indicating Mits to her right. "Ok whenever you are ready."

Mits looked from each face in the room, before she snapped her fingers as a rush of wind fell over all of them, dying as quickly as it had appeared.

"You can all apparate in and out of the Manor. If any of you need to bring your families, please speak with either Harry or Draco who will find a house-elf to allow the wards."

The assembled witches and wizards are nodded at her and resumed their progress out of the great room. Hermione felt more than heard as Dolohov approached from behind her as Mits scurried off to follow the large group leaving.

"Do you trust them all?" Dolohov asked.

"Harry, Draco, and Kingsley know most of them personally, and they were all interviewed, so I suppose so. I only know a few of them myself," Hermione said not turning her attention to the Russian wizard.

While she had been busy, every time she looked at the ex-Death Eater she would blush, memories of his eyes wide with lust as he watched her orgasm. Every time she caught his hazel eyes even from a distance her mind produced the image of him thrusting into her, his eyes wild as he worshiped her body.

Unfortunately, this had left her in a state worse than she had been before her morning orgasm. She knew her knickers were soaked, her core dripping with every glance, and she was wound far too tight. Hermione had made sure to pack the necessary tools to get her off again, but with Antonin staying in the room right next to her, she didn't know if she wanted to be caught again or wanted to create wards around her room that even the great Russian Curse-Breaker would struggle with.

Hermione knew he was gazing at her, and she turned to face him. Her traitorous body reacting to him, "I should probably show you your room, and I need to unpack before we head down to dinner."

Antonin nodded, and as he went to follow a smirk played across his features. Slipping into her mind briefly had afforded him a glimpse at the witch's thoughts, and he wondered if he should somehow catch her again.

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_To be continued. . ._


	12. Aphrodisia

**A/n: I hope everyone remembers what I said with the last chapter, things with Antonin & Hermione are going to move quickly now. I promise it will all make sense soon. I'm giving you the heads up to hopefully keep the reviews from saying "OMG that went so quick" "that's too quick" etc.**

**I'll be sharing some background images and thoughts on this fic in my facebook group so if you're not already in that, the link is in my profile! See you there ;)**

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_Aphrodisia (n): sexual desire_

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Against her better judgment, Hermione once again found herself flat on her back, nipple clamps tightened around her pebbled peaks, her favourite dildo charmed to thrust into her, and her favorite vibrator rubbing against her clit.

She had shown Antonin to the room adjacent to hers, they shared a bathroom between the two bedrooms, and Hermione had carefully warded the door before she had stripped out of her Ministry approved outfit. She had ignored the small voice in the back of her mind, that wondered, curiously, what would happen if he caught her again. He had said to move on, while also explaining how natural it was, which had left her wondering if he had participated in his own stress relief that day.

Hermione's hand circled the vibrator around her sensitive clit, and her previous fantasy flooded her mind, again with Dolohov's face as the man who brought her to her knees, literally. She had always loved the idea of sexual submission and had done quite a bit of research into the practice, though she had never experienced it in life. Her fantasies often included aspects of that lifestyle, and her mind had chosen Dolohov to be the star Dominant. The more she thought about the Russian wizard, the more she realised that everything about the man was powerful. His magic, his intelligence, and his presence.

She whimpered as she imagined her hands held high above her head, Dolohov's arms wrapped around her hips as he thrust into her. He pressed her against a wall, sinking into her heat with slow mastery, leaving her breathless and wanting. Hermione's dildo sped up as it began to brush her gspot, and she imagined Dolohov's Russian whispers in her ear as he took her and spanked her. He towered above her, his very being overwhelming as he raised a soft leather flogger and brought it down against her reddened globes.

Hermione was about to crash over the cliff when she heard a groan from the bathroom shared with the wizard in her fantasies. The idea of him opening her door, and seeing her spread and bear before him, imagining his hands over her body finally pushed her over the edge, and such came hard. A small gush of fluid leaked from her core, leaving a wet spot on the bedspread. She laid there for a minute, catching her breath while she sent her favourite toys back to her bag, which she locked tightly.

Finally, she stood, and went to her bag, she grabbed a pair of her favourite denims, a soft grey shirt, a long blue navy cardigan, and soft wool socks which she put on before heading to the bathroom. She knocked softly on the door, and when she received no answer, she opened the door.

Hermione was halfway across the bathroom to close the door to Antonin's room when the wizard walked into view. He wore nothing but a white towel around his midriff and left everything above his waist to her view. Her core tightened, and she was sure she was dripping wet at the image he presented to her. He was much more muscular than she would have guessed having been in Azkaban for four years, his chest was covered in dark hair, that trailed deliciously down until it disappeared under the edge of the towel. He hadn't yet seen Hermione and seemed to be moving around his room getting dressed.

He had just dropped the towel to pull on boxers when he heard her squeak. Antonin turned quickly to stare at Hermione, and her cheeks flamed. Now sans towel, she was able to enjoy the entire package that was Antonin Dolohov, including his rather impressive package. Whether it was because of her new fantasies or her recent dry spell of shags, Hermione wasn't sure, but she was suddenly seriously considering something that could land her in the addled spell ward at St. Mungo's.

She couldn't move, her eyes locked onto his hazel ones, as he seemed to recover from his surprise and began walking towards her slowly. His gaze never left hers, and he approached with the caution that he would treat a wild animal with. He made no move to hide before her eyes, and she still couldn't move.

Hermione felt his breath on her cheek before she realised she had been holding her own and exhaled in a rush, taking a deep breath and looking up into his eyes.

"Solnyshko," Antonin said, his voice low and gravelly sending tingles up her spine and along her skin.

He raised a hand to her face, and very gently brushed a tendril of her hair off her face, and behind her ear. Antonin left his hand on the side of her head, and when she didn't move away from him, he slowly pulled her closer to him, bringing his lips down to meet hers.

His soft lips teased Hermione's own lips, caressing them with a feather-light touch that both surprised and frustrated her. She wanted this wizard, and only Merlin knew why, but she wanted him to use the force she knew he had. Hermione moaned when his lips parted slightly, urging her own lips apart, and his hand tightened in her curls. He pulled her even closer, his kiss growing in intensity.

Antonin was bent towards her, and when his tongue pressed against her own, Hermione lifted herself up, needing to be closer. She was frustrated and needy, and she could feel her skin tingle with anticipation, and just as his lips began to move faster and exert more pressure, he backed up. His hazel eyes were dark with lust, his pupils blown wide as he stared at her.

Hermione's face and lips were red, from the heat of their combined lust and she suddenly realised who she had kissed. She made the same noise that had grabbed his attention as she turned tail and ran for the room behind her. She shut the door with a snap and warded it behind her.

She couldn't catch her breath, as the reality of what had just happened settled over her. She had just kissed Antonin Dolohov, after she had fantasized about him twice in one day, his face bringing her two intense orgasms. This was the man who she had recently brought from Azkaban into her home, even though he was the same wizard who had almost killed her in her fifth year. She wondered if she should check herself into St. Mungo's when a knock sounded from her door, and not the one behind her.

"Hermione come on, let's go to dinner," Harry called standing on the other side of his best friend's door, unaware of the inner turmoil the witch faced, as she raised her hands to her face and felt hot tears streak down her cheeks.

"I'll be a few minutes, Harry, go ahead without me," Hermione called back , and blissfully she heard him walk off. For the second time today, she wondered if she would ever be able to look at the Russian wizard without blushing again.

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_To be continued. . ._


	13. All

**A/n: I hope you all love this chapter and yes I do somewhat enjoy leaving you with a cliff hanger. Don't hate me.**

**I'm a few chapters ahead at this point, and luckily I found two readers who are reading along as I write so they can help me make sure it says consistent and natural. Please thank them.**

**Lots of love and niffler kisses**

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All (pronoun): the whole; every one

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Hermione laid her fork down next to her dinner plate and reached for her wine glass. It was her fourth or fifth glass of the vintage elf wine that the house-elves kept putting out, she couldn't honestly remember how many at this point, but she wasn't nearly as comfortable as she needed to be. So she kept drinking, because if she stopped drinking she would have to think about what she had done in the bathroom. What she had shared with Antonin Dolohov, convicted murdered and ex-Death Eater.

She had sat back quietly while the other Aurors, Harry, Pansy, Draco, and Luna had all chatted about different spell techniques that might be useful. Her eyes stayed resolutely away from the end of the table where a certain Russian Wizard set, his hazel eyes on her what felt like the whole time. Hermione had been prepared to deal with the mass of people and had brought a book to the table with her, though she had been on the same page for almost ten minutes, because though she looked like she was reading she wasn't.

No, her mind was currently plagued with thoughts of Antonin Dolohov and his soft lips, Antonin Dolohov and his erection that she had both seen and felt against her leg, Antonin Dolohov renowned curse breaker and intelligent wizard, and of course Antonin Dolohov the man who had left a scar across her abdomen. How could so many people exist inside one person? It was maddening, and she emptied her glass as her frustration grew.

Hermione had never felt such a strong physical need around anyone and was ill-equipped to process her feelings and needs. Her glass was refilled by a passing house-elf, and Hermione appreciated the service. Honestly, she might have spent too many years fighting against house-elves that she couldn't see their benefits. They kept wine glasses filled, and that was a valuable trait at the moment.

She heard a chair scrape against the hardwood floors and Antonin's deep voice, "I'm heading to bed, goodnight."

No one answered him, and he turned from the hall and left. Good, now she could drink in peace without his curious eyes watching her too closely. She snorted, of course, the only wizard who had been recently interested in her, happened to be a murderer who had almost killed her. Pansy turned her gaze to Hermione who swiftly dropped her eyes back down to her book, and began to read a few lines of the text, thankful when Pansy's careful eyes drifted away again.

Hermione knew if she began to speak aloud her best friend and sly Slytherin, Pansy would know immediately that she was troubled and well on her way to a good buzz.

Slowly her companions around the room began to yawn and one by one they all retreated to their rooms on the upper floor of the Manor. Harry had offered to walk Hermione back to her room, but she had stated that she wanted to finish her book before she turned in. She had missed the look that the Potters had shared as they left the room, leaving Hermione in dim candlelight with her eighth glass of elf wine.

Hermione was beginning to grow bored with her book and shut it with a snap. She was always reading, why couldn't she keep herself busy with less boring endeavors? She looked around the room, thinking of the manor at large and deciding she had two choices, head back to her room and try and sleep or head down the hall from her room and enjoy the indoor pool the house sported. A swim would prove a valuable distraction.

With that decision made, she grabbed her glass and the bottle that a house-elf had left on the table and walked down the long hallway to her room. She didn't remember the hall being as long as it had been, but she finally found her door. With a wave of her hand, she tried to open the door, only to find it still stuck.

Hermione tucked the wine bottle in the crook of her arm and removed her wand from her hair, her loose curls cascading down her back. She waved it in front of the door and heard the lock click, which was always a good sign, at least no one else had entered her rooms. She pushed the door open with her back, holding the wine in her other hand again and walked into the darkened room. With another wave she shut the door, plunging the room into near darkness.

Her senses finally caught up with her, and she heard something that shouldn't belong in her room. She leaned down and placed the wine bottle on the floor at her feet, and still holding her glass. She muttered Lumos under her breath and shined the wand light around the space.

Hermione gasped when her wand light fell upon a bed, but it wasn't empty, and it wasn't her bed at all. She had gone one door too far, and had somehow ended up in Antonin's room and was being given quite the show. His eyes were screwed shut, and he must not have heard her, as he sat up in the bed, leaning back, his hand closed tightly around his erection as he pumped himself quickly.

Hermione licked her lips at the sight of the pink, swollen member and how it was standing up straight, glistening with a few drops of pre-cum but begging to be used. She drained her wine glass and made a decision. She was going to get some, so she could finally relax and go back to her job. Sure that she wasn't making this decision because of the alcohol, she stripped her cardigan from her body and kicked her shoes off. She stumbled as she attempted to step out of her jeans.

She was at the edge of the bed, near Antonin's feet when she pulled the t-shirt from her body, leaving her in nothing but her bra and knickers. She breathed in deeply, and his eyes finally fluttered open.

Hermione was surprised when his cheeks flushed, a deep red coloring his cheeks and he made to grab the blanket next to him. He paused when instead of walking away, she moved closer and climbed onto the bed beside him. Her short legs struggling briefly with the height.

"Let me," Hermione said her voice low and husky as she offered, holding out her hand in the dark room.

Antonin swallowed but made no move to do anything else, and watched as Hermione's hand grasped him near the base of his erection and began to move up and down; caressing his hot steel until he grunted her name on his lips.

Hermione felt her core clench and dampen when she heard her name, and with newfound bravery, she sat up and lifted her leg to bring over him, her core now brushing his tight abdomen as she straddled him. It had been an incredibly long time since she had enjoyed a good fuck, and she knew just by looking at Dolohov's size that she would need to adjust for him.

She hovered above his erection and moved her hips just so that the bulbous end of his member rubbed through her slit, making both of them moan. She grinded down, feather-light when he would run over her clit before she would begin her slow thrusts. Hermione reached out and rested her hands on his shoulders, holding herself steady.

"Fuck me Dolohov, show me what you can do," Hermione commanded her voice firm, but he could hear the need behind it.

He carefully laid his hands on her hips and lifted her slowly, he lined her core over his massive shaft and brought her down until just an inch was spreading her open. Hermione hissed at the intrusion that was mixed with a little sting and a lot of sensation.

Hermione grew more frustrated as he continued to only allow her an inch at a time, and she leaned forward and grabbed his lower lip between her own teeth and bit down hard, stopping when she tasted the metallic taste of his blood.

"Oh solnyshko, you will be patient, or I will tie you to this bed," Antonin said his voice low but the command in it was not lost on Hermione and goose pimples erupted over her flesh. "Say you understand witch?"

She truly loved when a wizard took control, but most wizards had no clue. In fact, she would bet her best friends would call anyone a liar if they were told that Hermione Granger, Brightest Witch of Her Age loved to be dominated in the bedroom. Hearing his low, command caused a rush of fluid to leak from her core. She bit her lower lip and waited.

"Yes sir, I'll be patient," Hermione answered, her response automatic even as her frustration grew as he sank only another inch. She wanted to growl loudly as he continued to tease her with what had to be the slowest entry in the history of the world.

Hermione's need spiked when he sank another inch brushing against the very edge of her spongy spot, and she tried to force her weight down, growling as she did it. Her growl turned quickly into a shriek as she found herself suddenly on her back, and Antonin was above her, his hips nestled into the apex of her thighs, his cock removed from her core. She wanted to cry, and about did when she felt one of his hands leave her hips and trail up her body, leaving feather light touches in its wake.

Antonin gathered both of her hands in his own, dwarfing her small fingers until he could hold two in at once. He brought them over her head, and with a quickly muttered spell, Hermione felt ropes appear and hold her steady. In the same moment, ropes tied themselves around her ankles and spread her open.

"Now solnyshko, I can have my wicked way with you, and you cannot rush me," Antonin purred, his lips caressing the shell of her ear, raising the hair on the back of her neck.

Hermione whimpered, for a moment the survival part of her mind kicked in and wanted to scream and curse him and later she would wonder how in the world she ignored this part of her. Above her, nestled in between her thighs was a man who had once tried to kill her, and she had the scar to prove it. Yet, she laid there, legs tied open, hands bound above her head and she was leaving a wet spot on the soft sheets.

She wanted this man, only Merlin knew why, but her need was starting to make her emotional and she knew if something didn't happen soon she would dissolve into tears.

"What would you like me to do first? Clamp your beautiful nipples, lick your core, or do you want me to skip all the fun, and fuck you senseless?"

Hermione opened her mouth and closed it again, this couldn't be happening, she wanted it all. "All," she whispered unable to pick just one.

"All of it, what a perfect little slut you are. Alright solnyshko I will give you everything you want, but you will ask me for every orgasm, and I will spank you red if you orgasm without my approval. Oh, your safe words are yellow and red, they seem fairly self-explanatory," Antonin said, leaning forward to kiss her softly on her nose. He lifted his hand up and with a breath of wind a few of the candles on the chandelier flickered out, leaving them with just enough light to make out themselves but left the rest of the room in near darkness.

With a few words under his breath, Antonin waited, and Hermione's door flew open, her nipple clamps soaring towards him. He caught them with deft skill and brought them to his mouth. He held it there for a few seconds before he grasped the other, and this time he clamped his tongue between it and tested the strength. He made a quick adjustment to both of them before his fingers went down to her bra.

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_To be continued. . ._


	14. Ask

**A/n: Oh you all should know this Hufflepuff better. It would be so cruel to cut your smut in half and leave you til tomorrow. I love you all too much to do that. So without further ado, here is the rest of the sexy scene with Antonin & Hermione. BUT it's not even done; there is more for tomorrow. So enjoy a three chapter smut scene you naughty friends ;)**

**Let me know what you think. Do you think Hermione & Antonin are moving too fast or is the sex so hot it doesn't matter?**

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_Ask (v): to request or petition._

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Antonin severed the thin bit of fabric holding the cups of Hermione's bra together and flipped them back exposing the nipples of his dreams. They were already hard and ready, puckered to delightful points which grew even tighter and more sensitive as his hand went to pluck at them tenderly. Hermione had always had sensitive nipples, but as turned on as she was at the moment, it was almost a painful sensitivity.

Hermione was moaning now, unable to control herself as he teased her. Her eyes were locked on his, but Antonin's eyes were on her breasts and the peaks. He brought a clamp down and with some careful adjustments unscrewed it and placed it on her nipple. She hissed when the clamp closed, applying the lightest bit of pressure to her hardened peaks. As Antonin tightened the clamp his eyes flicked up to her face and he watched her carefully. Hermione knew he was watching her reaction and as he continued to turn the screw, it grew tighter and tighter until there was just the barest hint of pain. He pulled away then and repeated the process with her other nipple.

"You like a little pain don't you Solnyshko," Antonin murmured when he had finished. His eyes were almost black with desire, and she felt the heat rise in her body, connecting her mind, mouth, breasts, and fluttering core together.

"Yes sir," she hissed again, both delighting and hating the pain.

Antonin took a moment to look down at the witch beneath him, the one whose face he'd been jerking off too. This slight little witch held more power over him than even the Dark Lord had and she had no idea. He was sure it scared her, his feelings for her. As his eyes roamed over her body, he noticed her pupils blown wide, showing just how turned on she was by him, which only bolstered his desire to be with her. But his eyes were drawn further south to the scar that crossed from her chest down to her abdomen and off to the side.

He knew without asking that it was the scar he had left on her, the one that had almost killed her. Antonin felt a deep hit in his gut at the memory of what this curse could have done to her, but also the surprise he had when she had silenced him. She was his survivor, his guiding light back to his own humanity. If she let him, he would worship at her feet.

"Solnyshko, you are beautiful," he murmured, and his eyes shot back to hers.

"I know Dolohov, can you please stop teasing me and fuck me," Hermione snarled, lifting her hips up to try and feel some friction against her weeping core.

Antonin chuckled and leaned down. He captured her lips once more, and this time he didn't rush, he waited patiently as she lost herself to him. When she was breathless, he paused, allowing her to breathe only to cut her short with a sharp pull on the chain that linked her nipple clamps. He captured her hiss between his lips, his tongue pushing into her mouth craving more of her unique flavor.

He continued to lightly pull the chain, loving each time she jumped a little against the pleasure and pain. He opened his eyes and pulled back from her, Hermione's chest rising and falling quickly as she struggled to get her breath. He put his hands on her hips and raised them slowly, taking a torturously long time to feel his way up her body. He waited for the moment when she would open her mouth to complain and wasn't disappointed.

Antonin grasped his length and ever so slowly pushed the tip past her outer lips and began to run his engorged head up and down her slit. Just like she had done, he would pause when he reached the top, and push a little more at her clit. He smirked whenever she hissed at him, and he knew this witch who packed more magic in her pinky than most others was at his mercy. And yet, in a clear example of how much he had changed, for the first time as he watched the witch beneath him he had no desire to harm her, to leave her with a lasting reminder of the pain he could cause. He wanted nothing more than to make her scream and only remember the pleasure he would pull from her body.

He would, of course, remember this forever and it would fill the lonely nights once he returned to Azkaban. If he had more time with her, and if instead of having it be their first time, but their tenth he would have loved to spank her for every impatient noise she made and every single small thrust she tried to make as he, ever so patiently, took his time.

"Commmmmmmm–," Hermione's word was forced from her lips when Antonin thrust into her, slamming his entire length into her core.

His head fell back as he savored the feeling of her incredibly tight core spreading for his erection. She was divine, a goddess of intelligence, beauty, and pleasure. Antonin couldn't for a moment regret taking advantage of her inebriated state, for the memory of her lithe body would get him through the rest of his life.

"Fuck Dolohov," Hermione groaned, she moved her hips, hoping to entice his own thrusts to begin.

"Antonin, solnyshko. My name is Antonin, you will scream it when I make you cum," Antonin commanded, his tone leaving no room for discussion, and Hermione's core pulsed deliciously at the demand. He lifted his head again to look down at her; sweat began to bead on his forehead as he gave himself over to her body. He would worship her for however long she would allow him.

"Yes, please Antonin. Please move," Hermione moaned, pulling against the bonds of her hands. She both loved and hated them. She loved how she felt beneath this dangerous wizard, but she wanted to run her hands along his body. It was a delicious mix of domination and control that she craved in the bedroom. And without thought, she gave herself over to the powerful wizard above her.

Antonin finally began to move, slowly his thrusts steady and shallow, never pulling even halfway out of her. He wanted to drive her to the brink, and the best way would be the caress her spongy internal pleasure spot with the head of his member. He sped up a little, loving when her eyes closed and she clenched her jaw, trying to fight the pleasure that was begging to be released.

He reached down with one hand he pulled the chain down, bringing it closer and closer to her belly button. His other hand going to the bead at the top of her sex that had swollen with pleasure and was begging to be toyed with. Antonin would not deny this witch anything, let alone pleasure. With slow movements, he synchronized his thrusts with the pull of her chain and the slow circles against her clit.

Antonin was rewarded when only a minute later, Hermione's core was clenching around his erection, and her moans were turning into breathy begs for him to let her fall into her orgasm. "Ask Hermione, or I will slow down and edge you to insanity."

Hermione's eyes shot open as she heard the threat, her body flushed, and though she loved pain, that was a type of pain she wasn't willing to endure.

"Please Antonin, please let me cum. Please let me cum-," Hermione moaned, Antonin, speeding up to bring her closer. "Fuck Antonin please, please, please."

"Cum witch, now. Cum with me," Antonin groaned, his movements turning into an erratic dance of passion.

Hermione fell over the edge just as Antonin ripped the clamps from her nipples, sending blood pouring into their tips, and he completed one final circle on her clit. He stilled, buried inside her, as he found his own orgasm. He cried out, falling against her as his lips found hers. Antonin wished he had been able to last longer, but the witch was a dream. Her tight core, her submission, her brains, and her noises had driven him to the edge faster than he imagined possible. He hoped that his refractory period would be short and Hermione would allow him to enjoy her body and mind at least one more time.

He stayed there for a minute after they had both orgasmed, unwilling to move from her. Her kisses grew softer, and she finally stopped moving her lips at all. He leaned up and watched as sleep overcame her. Antoin brushed a few of her hairs from her face before he leaned up, his cock still deep inside her. As his eyes grazed over her body, he couldn't help focusing on the long scar that almost split her abdomen down the middle. It was pale pink and puckered with obvious healing with Dittany. No one had ever survived the curse that he had struck her with, but he had also never cast it silenced. Instead of feeling curiosity at the sight of it, like he thought he would, he felt disgusted. Antonin had done this to her; he had caused her this pain. He wondered if her injuries were more than external, and what damage they had done to her.

His curse had been designed to rip one's insides apart, a painful curse that made it look as though a person had been sliced in half, except on the outside which stayed untouched. He had created the curse himself one afternoon many, many years ago when he was still studying under his father. He remembered the look of pride on his father's face when he had explained what the spell's intention was. And with bile rising up in the back of his throat, Antonin could remember the muggle woman his father had dragged into their home and demanded that at twelve, Antonin try the spell out. It had been many years since he had thought of that moment, and now through the lenses that time had given him, he saw it for what it really was. A sadistic attempt to impress his father and hopefully receive the love he craved and in his heartlessness and desperation, he had harmed someone so pure that it had changed his very soul.

Vowing in the silence of the bedroom, Antonin swore that he would  _never_  harm someone like that again. He would protect his witch and anyone else who was innocent, but he would never maliciously turn his wand on anyone again.

Antonin considered things for a moment, but the decision was easy. He lifted his hand and rubbed it along her scar, watching as the skin reformed and evened out. The long puckered scar was disappearing along with the internal damage it had cost. He continued to mutter the counter curse as his hand hovered over her womb, removing the damage to her internal organs. The scars were gone, the puckered skin had disappeared, leaving behind only pale pink lines were the damage had once been.

Antonin rolled off of Hermione, pulling her into his chest and fell asleep quickly, unaware that while the witch slept next to him, her mind was full of dreams of a future with him.

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_To be continued. . ._


	15. Ameliorate

**A/n: You all were soooooo pleased yesterday with the double chapter release, and I'm so pleased. And colour me surprised that _no one_  was upset about how fast Hermione & Antonin are moving. One of you mentioned something that will be happening, but I'm going to leave that as a surprise.**

**Thank you all so much for your reviews yesterday, today I hope to get quite a few chapters written, but I also have a few plunnies playing around in my brain, who are getting quite annoying. I just hope they let me write some of this story before demanding all the attention.**

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_Ameliorate (v): to make or become better, more bearable, or more satisfactory; improve_

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Hermione woke up, her eyes still closed, she knew immediately that she hadn't been asleep for long and judging by the darkness on the outside of her eyelids, it was still very dark inside Antonin's room. She wondered briefly what had woken her up, though she figured it rather quickly when a thick tongue ran up her damp slit. His tongue sunk between her folds, licking her slowly. A deep blush suffused her cheeks when she realised that not only was his tongue lapping up her own arousal but his own. She wasn't aware that the thought of that would turn her on as much as it was, but her heart sped up at the thought.

She gasped, and her eyes opened quickly looking down to see a moving shape underneath the sheets that were draped across her chest. Her nipples pebbled immediately, as the cool sheet ran across her tightened peeks, adding to the stimulation. The pleasure went straight to her core clenched as Antonin's tongue took another swipe, sucking up her natural lubricant.

"Oh witch, you are the sweetest treat," Antonin said his voice low and gravelly as he pulled back from her slit momentarily.

Hermione couldn't reply for the moan that escaped her lips as he started from the very bottom of her core all the way up to the frazzled bead at the top of her sex, where he paused to suck on it none too gently. He continued that way for a few minutes, taking care every few swipes to suck her clit between his teeth before he brought his teeth down gently.

"You're going to beg again, solnyshko. You're going to beg to cum, do you understand?" Antonin asked pulling away enough to speak, but he punctuated each word with a kiss or nip to her inner thighs.

"Yes sir, please sir," Hermione said unable to keep herself from begging as he slowly pushed a single digit into her pulsating core.

Hermione couldn't remember the last time she had been gifted with a good licking, but the touch of dominance was almost more than she could handle. She couldn't help but wonder briefly if Antonin somehow knew about her predilection of being submissive or if he was just naturally dominant. She couldn't help but wonder what that mean for the two of them going forward if they meshed so well together?

Antonin circled another finger around the edge of her passage before he slowly sunk his digit deep into her core. He began a delicate pattern of suck and nip of her sensitive clit that was timed perfectly with the rub against her internal pleasure button.

Hermione was already thrashing, but she wasn't able to for very long, because when she went to lift her hips one more time to bring the pleasure closer, she felt the sensation of a rope around her hips, that tied her in place. She gasped realising just how powerful the wizard between her thighs was that he had done wandless magic to summon a rope and bind her hips to the bed. Another gush of fluid leaked from her core and her orgasm was quickly approaching as his intelligence turned her on.

"Stop moving printsessa, I told you earlier that if you couldn't behave I would edge you to insanity," Antonin said his lips pulling away from her clit just as she felt the pleasure start to build.

"I promise...I...oh fuck...I promise...please..." Hermione ground out, her teeth clenched as she panted and moaned her release just beyond her reach.

Antonin resumed his ministrations as he bit down a little harder on her clit, and Hermione fought jumping off the bed. Thankful in that moment for the spell that kept her hips tied down, or she was sure she would have bucked up. He pushed another finger into her shuddering core, and she hissed with pleasure, unable to stop the fluttering of her internal walls.

She was about to reach the very edge of her sanity when he resumed his delicious pattern of pleasure. The nip, suck and rub bringing her to new heights of pleasure. She was about to crash over the edge when she opened her lips.

"Please Antonin, please sir, please can I come," Hermione's voice was frazzled, and she struggled to hold onto her orgasm.

"Cum right now printsessa," Antonin growled, pulling away on briefly.

As soon as her core began to clench on his fingers, and she started to moan out her pleasure, she felt a new sensation against her nether lips. Antonin brought his hand down repeatedly, slapping her lips lightly, each hit sending shock waves through her clit and up to her brain. She soon found herself falling over the edge a second time, as he continued to smack her gently, the pain mingling with the pleasure almost more than she could stand.

Hermione laid back on the bed, her chest rising and falling quickly as she tried to catch her breath. The bed dipped and the ropes around her hips disappeared and Antonin was laying next to her, his hazel eyes staring down at her, a wicked smirk on his face.

"You're not done solnyshko," Antonin said his voice low as he brought his face down to hover just above hers. "Clean my face of your delicious arousal."

Hermione's core clenched at the demand and dominance, as she leaned forward capturing his lips with hers as she tasted herself on his tongue. Once she felt properly snogged, she broke from his lips to lick and suck along his bearded jawline, and around the perimeter of his lips. When she was finished, she laid back on the bed, staring up at the Russian wizard. He was by far the best kisser she had ever had the pleasure of snogging, but it was more than just the kiss that made her insides flutter it was how he treated her, as though she was the most powerful and the most delicate person.

She wished briefly that their pasts were different, that they had met organically and without the trauma that had brought them together. Pushing the thought aside she focused on his face, his thick brown beard, to his slightly crooked nose, his perfect teeth, his soft pink lips, and his deep hazel eyes. His pupils were still wide with arousal and it filled her with a different warmth than the tidal wave that had just overtaken her.

"I need to show you something, printsessa," Antonin said his voice still low, but Hermione could hear a hint of caution behind his words.

Hermione's eyebrow arched, but she waited silently. His hand lifted above them both, and a handful of the candles in the chandelier once again lit themselves, casting a warm flickering light around the room.

He pulled the sheet down from her chest and grasped one of her hands in his. He kissed her palm and wrist, then guided her fingertips to run along her abdomen.

Hermione's eyes narrowed for a moment, and she sat up quickly, just narrowly missing hitting her head against his. Looking down at her abdomen she saw the puckered, angry scar that had once crossed her entire stomach was no longer there, what was left was smooth skin.

Her brown eyes met his, and she saw emotion and some wetness swimming in their depths.

"Did you do that?" Hermione asked though she knew the answer already.

"Yes, but I realised as I held you that I once again took liberties with your body without asking you. I might be able to undo them, and the scar could come back if you would like. I am sorry Hermione, I was only thinking of making you happy, I neglected—," Antonin's words were heavy with emotion and his Russian accent was more pronounced than ever, but Hermione cut off his words when she pressed three fingers to his lips. Her own eyes now glazing with wetness, she blinked the tears back.

When he had lifted his eyes back to hers, she pulled her fingers away.

"Antonin, I don't care that you 'took liberties with my body,' you removed a scar that had made me self-conscious for the last few years. I didn't know you would be able to," Hermione paused, biting her lip before continuing. "Do you know if the damage to my organs would be undone as well?"

"Yes, it should have repaired and removed all the damage from the curse. I am so sorry, solnyshko," Antonin said and Hermione could now see the tears that were pooled in his eyes. It felt awkward to want to comfort him at this moment, but the truth was she needed the comfort he could provide just as much as he needed. She needed to know that he wasn't just out to use her body, that this wasn't just another layer of his obsession with her.

Hermione didn't know what to say, so instead of answering, she leaned forward and captured her lips with his own. With slow, tenderness she kissed him, erasing the need for words, erasing the need for any more apologies. As their kissing grew in intensity, Hermione found herself moving forward, wrapping her body around his in incessant need to bring herself into him.

As though he could read her mind, he gently lifted her leg to rest atop his hip, before he slipped into her sodden core. His strokes were slow and gentle, and Hermione couldn't help but feel this was what making love felt like. His lips continued their slow torture of her own, even as he would kiss his way down her jaw and neck, leaving soft bites every so often. Hermione found herself moaning his name against the shell of his ear, and his hand tweaked her pebbled nipples, still sharp from pleasure and the cool of the room.

She had never experienced anything like this before. They both seemed to know exactly when and how to move, as though finding their mutual pleasure had been perfected over long years together. When their lips met it was both hungry and deep, leaving her breathless. The longer they moved in perfect orchestration with each other, Antonin began to whisper to her in Russian and only a portion of the words he said made sense to her. But his tone was enough for Hermione to know that these words were the outpouring of his heart.

Hermione lost track of the time as they continued their slow and unhurried pace. When she would near the peak of pleasure, Antonin would careful graze her skin, lighting up all the nerve endings, before he would bring his hand down to gently rub her clit. His lips and tongue would leave a trail from her own lips down her neck and over her clavicle, drawing out her pleasure. She had long lost count of the number of times he had brought her to orgasm, each one completed with his lips moving against hers.

When Antonin began to move faster, his own orgasm nearing, Hermione couldn't stop the tears that swam in her eyes. So filled with emotion for this man and for this experience, she knew nothing in her life would ever be able to compete with this moment. She watched his face as his eyes fluttered closed and he found pleasure in her body. The knowledge that she alone could bring such a wizard undone filled her with a warmth that continued to grow within her.

When they both fell back on the bed, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up until her head rested between his upper chest and his powerful bicep. Her eyes fluttered closed as he whispered more Russian into her ear. The last thought that crossed her mind was that she had never felt so content in her own life.

* * *

_To be continued. . ._

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**_Like I said someone commented with what will happen between our dear couple, but I want to know what you think will happen._ **


	16. Avada Kedavra

**A/n: This is a VERY short chapter, you'll understand why immediately. I wanted to make sure you all knew that while our two favourite characters are up to no good, there are others in this story who are really up to no good.**

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_Avada Kedavra (n): one of the three Unforgiveable Curses, the most powerful and sinister spells known to wizardkind; causes instantaneous and painless death, without causing injury to the body, and without a trace of violence_

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"Please, I'll do anything, just let them go," the small woman pleaded with him, her cheeks stained with tears. She was on the ground beneath him, her family members strewn around her, all with glassy eyes.

He couldn't help but smile as he stared down at the witch. She had proved to be a good test subject for his project, especially with the additional protections she had placed on her wand. Ultimately, however, he had triumphed, and now the only thing left to do was to kill her. He held her wand in his right hand, and he could feel the delicate surge of magic as her wand's allegiance recognized its new master.

"I know you would do anything, but you have already done everything I need. And I couldn't have you running off to alert anyone," Augustus said his voice low and cold. He had spent years on this project, and though the Dark Lord would not benefit from his accomplishment, there was no reason he, Augustus Rookwood, wouldn't be able to.

With a quick flick of her wand he whispered Avada Kedavra and her own wand, the tool that had forged the wands that lay in a wide circle around Rookwood, all pointed in his direction but laying in front of their previous owner's dead bodies. Her wand had turned on her just a quickly as the Tribeswoman's had, it was almost too easy.

Of course, the process hadn't been easy, no Augustus had spent years researching wands and wandlore. He had begun a owl-post relationship with a wandmaker in Australia, a naive young man who was more than willing to share his families secrets to an interested party. After all, Augustus had always been good at manipulating people into doing what they shouldn't, why would anyone be immune when he was finally on the mission of his lifetime.

He looked around the semi-circle of witches and wizards and shrugged. Of course, he hated spilling magical blood, no matter pure or not, no matter if they were from his home nation or not. Magical blood was precious, he had finally learned and embraced that after the battle was over and he had hidden himself in the Ministry again.

Augustus had spent the last few years rubbing shoulders with a mudblood who disproved everything he had ever been told growing up. Disproved everything the Dark Lord had ever muttered about blood purity. Hermione Granger was a crucial piece of why he was free now. Free of the insane wizard who cared little who he tortured and killed. If you wronged the Dark Lord it didn't matter the years of service, you were just as dead as a muggle.

With a twist in the air, Augustus moved into the suffocating space only to appear moments later in the Leaky Cauldron. He was of course well disguised as Algernon Ainsworth, and currently, on vacation from the Ministry, and he had some shopping to do. At least that's how it would appear to anyone around him, but in truth, he needed to continue testing the wards and protections over the old wandmaker's shop. It wouldn't do for Augustus to make a move against Ollivander without the proper spells prepared and when it would alert the Ministry that someone was out and attacking wandmakers.

So far he had slipped under the radar, making sure that he only killed in foreign countries, where any evidence of a British man even being in the area was impossible to find. He had waited too long for this to screw it up over a simple mistake.

He nodded at a few of the shoppers who were already on Diagon Alley this early in the morning and was greeted for the most part, with a pleasant smile. His eyes kept flicking back and forth between the other witches and wizards and the wandmaker's shoppe. It looked the same as it had done before the war and when I bought my first wand.

Augustus settled himself at the shop across the street, keeping an eye on the small shoppe. With a powerful Disillusion charm, Algernon Ainsworth faded from view before the blundering old shop keeper of this store could even notice the inhabitant to his workplace.

It would be a long day, but even now Augustus held himself over with the thoughts of what he'll do once he takes control of the magical world.

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To be continued. . .


	17. Ardent

**A/n: Today is a rough day for me, but thankfully my husband spotted it early and is making me take a self-care day. Maybe this means more chapters will be written, but we'll see.**

**I didn't expect many reviews for the last chapter because of how short it was and it didn't feature our couple, but I was pleasantly surprised. So thank you for that.**

**For my readers who speak another language, feel free if it's easier to comment in your native language, it gives me a chance to throw it into google translate, plus it's a bit of delayed gratification. However, if you review in English and it's not perfect, trust me I don't judge. Read some of my previous stories and you'll see I wasn't all that good of a writer and I've been speaking the language my whole life.**

**I hope you all have a pleasant weekend.**

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_Ardent (adj): having, expressive of, or characterized by intense feeling; passionate; fervent_

* * *

Hermione opened her eyes when she heard a soft pop to her left, she turned and saw Antonin's bare back which was crisscrossed with old scars. She paused, her hand held in midair as she made to brush her fingers across them, but was distracted when he turned to place a tea tray on the bed before him.

She didn't think he had noticed that she was awake but smiled when she realised he was preparing a cup for her. Two sugars with just a dash of milk, of course, he would know how she liked a cuppa. "Good morning," she muttered her voice thick with sleep.

"Good morning solnyshko," Antonin replied not turning to her, and she realised that he had sensed her transition from sleep. He turned to face her holding the teacup out to her. She sat up and accepted it happily.

"Thank you," Hermione said after a long sip. She hadn't bothered to raise a sheet up to cover herself from his view and smirked when his eyes fell down her body taking in her breasts. Previously, with anyone else, she would have hurriedly hidden from view, especially when she was drinking tea, a practice that was usually for when you were awake and dressed. But she felt completely at ease before his eyes. He didn't move to touch her just starred his eyes dancing along her curves.

"If I didn't tell you last night, you're incredibly beautiful," Antonin murmured his eyes finally meeting hers.

"You did, and thank you. Truly thank you for healing my scar," Hermione said, and for a moment she felt a twinge of awkwardness between them, but she pushed it down. "I know that subject is weird for us, I'm sure there will be others too, but it means so much to me that you...well you healed me."

Antonin bowed his head, silent for a few moments before he cleared his throat, "In the light of a new day, I will understand if you would prefer to pretend nothing happened. I will make no demands of you but healing you that was something I should have done long ago. I just hope it I can continue to prove to you that I'm not the same wizard."

Hermione turned to place her cup on the side table before she moved and straddled his hips, bringing their chests together. She loved the great breath he took and the way his pupils widened once she was nestled against him. She could feel his erection grow beneath her. "Antonin I know you are different, but I am not the type of person to hold your past against you, but I would ask that we keep this between us, at least for now. While we deal with Rookwood at least, if he's getting closer to Ollivander, we can't afford to be distracted."

"Of course, solnyshko. Bringing Rookwood to justice is my first priority," Antonin said his expression changing briefly. "In the meantime, let me help you greet the sunrise with an orgasm."

Hermione sucked in a deep breath as he reached between them to line his hardness up to her core and took her at once. While it was not the same unhurried pace of the night before, it was still slow and intimate. There were a few moments when she had to kiss him just to break the intimate eye contact they kept. He made her feel things she didn't even know were possible, her body was flying to new heights in this position. His arms were wrapped around her, pulling her impossibly closer as he took over the thrusts, lifting her slowly before dropping her until she was taking him to the hilt.

Her head fell back as she reached the edge, Antonin shifted his hips, and suddenly he was hitting the spongy flesh in a new way. She fell over the edge when he sped up and bit down on her neck. The pain sending flashes of heat to every nerve ending in her body and mixing lethally with the pleasure that commanded all of her body's attention. Antonin shuddered a few times before she felt a light hit internally and realised she was feeling his ejaculate hitting her inner walls.

It was by far one of the most arousing things she had ever felt, and she clung to him tighter, purposefully clenching and releasing her inner muscles drawing his essence into her core. By the time they both caught their breath they were a sweaty mess of fluids.

Antonin carefully adjusted, not letting his softening cock leave her before he picked her up and carried her into their shared bathroom. He sat her down carefully on the countertop and slipped from her finally, their combined fluids leaking onto the marble. He then made some hand movements, turning on the shower. He grabbed a flannel and wet it with warm water from the tap, and kneeled before her. With tender care, he cleaned her thighs, outer lips, inner lips, and with the lightest of touches, he wiped along her slit, from back to front.

Hermione couldn't recall ever being treated this way, or even hearing stories from her friends about such things. This was the type of care you read about in novels, and yet here it was living and breathing in a man who was almost too good to believe.

His eyes raised to hers finally, "Are you sore at all?" Antonin asked, and when she nodded a smirk played on his lips until he carefully hid it. "Do you take the potion?"

Hermione's eyebrows knitted together, confusion coloring her expression, "The potion?"

Antonin's eyes widened, his cheeks reddened, and he swallowed. "The sterilitas potion?"

Hermione suddenly realised what he was asking and felt bile rise into her throat, "Good Godric, no! I never needed it. Oh my!" She paused, taking a deep breath, "It's just that the damage from the curse, it affected my reproductive organs, I haven't had a cycle since I was sixteen."

She was genuinely terrified, because though she had spent years with bitter anger swirling in her stomach that she would never carry a child, she wasn't ready right now. For one she wasn't in a committed relationship, she had only enjoyed a very satisfying night. But that was with someone due to go back to Azkaban for the rest of his natural life as soon as they caught Rookwood. She couldn't raise a child on her own, and what would everyone think if she was suddenly pregnant with the baby of a man who had once tortured her? She couldn't do that, she needed to figure something out.

Antonin stood and ran his fingers along her face, "It's ok, breathe solnyshko." He waited until she began to take steadying breaths. "If that is the case, I only healed you last night. It would be impossible for you to become pregnant, it takes two weeks for the egg to be released."

Hermione nodded, yes that was right; it took two weeks for the egg to release. She began to breathe slowly again.

"It's nice to know where you stand though," Antonin said a smirk playing on his lips.

"You know it's not that," Hermione said biting her lip. "It's just this is far from ideal, I mean once this is over…"

Antonin covered her lips with his finger, "Solnyshko, I was joking. I know this is not ideal, and I wouldn't want that for you. I want your happiness, you deserve that after everything. Let's take a shower and get ready for the day, I'm sure it'll be eventful."

Hermione nodded and allowed him to help her off the countertop. By the time they reached the shower steam had filled the glass-enclosed room, leaving it in a rush when Antonin had opened the door.

* * *

An hour later Hermione had changed into a soft cream turtleneck and her black leather pencil skirt. She paired it with a pair of black heels and left her room for breakfast. She and Antonin had agreed to leave separately so they wouldn't draw attention to their coupleness, but she desperately needed to find Pansy or Luna.

Once she found the breakfast room, the voices from inside carrying into the hall beyond, Hermione's nerves were frazzled, and it was just the beginning of the day. She knew that today would be long, and though she and Harry had come up with a rough plan for the day, she was sure that there would be a lot of things that would need to be adjusted.

Her brown eyes fell on Pansy, whose eyes met her from the doorway. "Pansy, can I talk to you in the hall?" Hermione asked, ignoring the look that Harry gave her from beside his wife, and the Russian wizard who sat across from her best friends.

Pansy nodded, and folded her napkin and placed it beside her plate. Hermione quickly ushered them into a room across the hall and waving her wand soundproofed and warded it.

"What's up?" Pansy asked, his eyes narrowed as she looked at Hermione with concern. "Planning on killing me?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she turned back to face the Slytherin. "I need to tell you something, but you have to swear not to tell anyone. Not Harry and not Draco or Luna, do you understand. I'm half tempted to make a wizard's vow with you," Hermione said her voice even but she was deadly serious.

Pansy's eyes widened, and she looked at Hermione with a mixture of concern and surprise, "Of course Hermione, are you ok?"

Hermione blushed now, and couldn't meet Pansy's brown eyes, "Yes, well I'm great actually." Hermione paused twisting her hands. "Antonin and I...well there is something there and well...we…"

"Hermione Jean Granger, did you fuck Antonin Dolohov?" Pansy shrieked her voice echoing in the small room, that looked as though it was a mix between a sitting room and small office.

"Shhhh. Sort of, I mean we did fuck but then we...what we did after was so much more than fucking. It would be insulting to even call it that," Hermione's cheeks heated and she knew without needing to look that her face must be Gryffindor red.

Pansy moved to sit down in one of the overstuffed pink chairs behind her, "Alright so you and Dolohov had sex? Did you...well was it ok? Are you ok?"

Hermione followed her and sat across from her, "Sweet Salazar, Pansy, it was more than ok, I'm more than ok. I feel like my whole body is on fire, even now. It was more than anything I've ever experienced."

"Better than Ron? Better than that one time with Draco? Better than Viktor?" Pansy asked her voice teasing, but her eyes were full of mirth.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Yes better than all of them. Better than if I had had all three of them at once."

Pansy shrieked with laughter, "Oh you naughty girl. Was he, you know, in charge like you like it?"

Hermione blushed even more profoundly and nodded, unable to formulate words at the moment.

"Oh this is amazing, Hermione finally found a...oh fuck, but he's…" Pansy's words trailed off, and her face was stricken as the realization of who it was they were talking about finally hit her.

Hermione couldn't help the swooping in her stomach as the reality of their situation hit her again. As perfect as last night had been, and as perfect as they might be together because of their sexual leanings, it could never be more than what they could do now. He would go back to Azkaban at the end, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Hermione nodded and cleared her throat, pushing the emotion down, "Yes, well we have right now at least. I need a sterilitas potion, do you have extra?"

Pansy's smile was soft and understanding, as she nodded, "Yeah you know I keep extra, it's you know my job."

Hermione smiled at her before she found herself wrapped in Pansy's arms. Hermione appreciated having the Slytherin witch in her life more now than ever, she would understand what Hermione was feeling more so than anyone else. But Pansy also knew deep pain and losing people you love, so Hermione tightened her arms around the other witch and let herself feel the reality of the moment.

And though she was sure there would be people in her life who would think she was addled, Ron for one, that she would ever let Antonin touch her, she couldn't help but hate that she felt so much for the Russian Wizard but could never have a future with him.

Before they rejoined everyone in the breakfast room, Pansy summoned a small bag of potion vials to them and placed them in Hermione's hand. She quickly swallowed the beige liquid and promised Pansy she would take one every day.

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_To be continued. . ._


	18. Auror

**A/n: I want to first start out by saying I grappled with this chapter for a while, but not for the reasons you might think.** _ **Normally**_   **when I write a story I want to make everything natural, organic, and original when possible. I tend to invent words or use translations of words when I think of spells, potions, flowers, etc. However, that is a time intensive process, literally between google translate, dictionary . com, thesaurus . com, and etymology websites I'm overwhelmed when trying to create something like that. I knew a huge part of this story would need to have "original" spells but with this muse being so talkative I didn't want to distract myself or her while ceaselessly chasing down words for every little thing. So prepare yourself for whatever I decide works as I write in the way I describe the spells, and please be kind. Maybe when I revise this after it's all finished I'll find the words, but until then it'll be what it is.**

**At present, I do not have the next chapter finished, so if I cannot get a chapter out tomorrow I'll let my facebook group know. I was so ahead but this week was a bit quiet.**

**Also, in case it hasn't been obvious, there will be some Dominant/submissive elements in this story, they won't be a full D/s story at all. The story is the main focus, but there will be moments of it when Antonin & Hermione are coupled up. If that's not your thing, sorry.**

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_Auror (n): witch or wizard of an elite unit of highly-trained, specialist officers tasked with upholding the law and protecting the magical communities in their respective countries from large-scale threats._

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Hermione's heels clicked on the wood floor in the bright attic space of the manor. She was standing in front of the team of Aurors, again, but this time she stood next to Antonin. A fact that her body seemed focused on if her nerves were anything to go by. Every time he would move, her nerves would light up in preparedness, even though each time it was to instruct the group.

He was demonstrating various spells he had invented, all of them defensive, most of them in Russian, and all of them done without a wand. Antonin had asked that Hermione have the Aurors place their wands on a table at the far end of the room, so they wouldn't be tempted to use them. She had happily gathered them up, feeling a different frisson of magic along each narrow piece of wood.

She had stopped paying attention to him, her mind too focused on memories of his body, and she was surprised when everyone began moving towards her. Her eyes widened, stress clouding her features when she realised she had no idea what was going on. But just as she was about to ask Antonin, the Aurors all made the slight movement that had them standing before him.

Hermione watched as Antonin passed out copied papers to each pair of Aurors. She moved closer to look at them, finding that each sheet of paper had the description of one of the new spells, the name Antonin had given it, how to pronounce the words, and an illustration of the hand movements associated. She was surprised at the effort he had put in, and wondered when he had completed these, but didn't ask in front of the group.

When all the Aurors were stationed around the room, paired up with another, Antonin said the spell for the first defensive spell, a shield charm, out loud for everyone to hear. He repeated the word three times, each time slowly so that the group of witches and wizards could hear him properly before he finally cast it in front of him.

"Miss Granger if you could please try and break through this shield, you can use your wand if it helps," Antonin said smirking at her as the shield's energy fluttered in front of him.

Hermione took her defensive stance, but instead of reaching for her wand, she closed her eyes and recited the words she had practiced for years. She produced a bright bluebell flame in her hand, but in the years since she had first learned the spell, she had created it into a powerful defensive spell. As the flame fluttered in her right hand, she took her left hand and put her fingers into the fire, smirking when she heard the cries of surprise and concern from the gathered Aurors. She carefully pulled a ball of blue flames from the large flame and smiled widely at Antonin before she tossed it at him. It hit his shield, leaving it up, but hit the floor and created an area of fire before him.

She met Antonin's eyes and couldn't help feeling pride as he looked at her, pupils blown wide in arousal, and she knew then, that just like her, he was turned on at complicated spellwork.

Hermione continued the process for a few minutes until Antonin was almost surrounded by blue flames, but she called out the, and all the fire disappeared. Just as he began to lower his hands, the shield moving with it, she grasped her wand and began to fire. She didn't pause between spells, just to see how strong his shield was. Stinging jinx, slowing charm, babbling curse, knockback jinx, shrinking charm, stunning spell, langlock jinx, bat-bogey hex, stinging jinx, and a banishing charm all did nothing to the shield that was still protecting Antonin. His glittering bubble of energy showing no signs of weakness.

She smirked then, and muttered Avis under her breath, summoning her flock of yellow birds which flew easily thru the shield and had almost reached Antonin when she canceled the spell.

Turning now to the Aurors, all of whose mouths hung open in shock she spoke, "As you can see, Mr Dolohov's shield charm is just as powerful as any protego. It can be somewhat complicated to master, and you will find that created the bubble shield will require tremendous energy, but it will protect you from most annoying spells. As with protego, it is no match for the Unforgiveables."

The Aurors nodded and went to work, some of them shouting the Russian words, some barely whispering them, and Hermione couldn't help but smile when Harry was the first one to summon a protective shield in front of him.

Antonin came to stand near Hermione, far enough away to not draw attention, but still close enough that she could hear his whispered words, "Solnyshko, watching you do wandless magic, and to be so accomplished at it, is delightful."

Hermione smiled, but didn't turn towards him, "Thank you."

"Do you want to play a game?" Antonin asked his voice changing slightly, and Hermione recognised the subtle change of his Dominant voice coming forward.

"It depends," Hermione answered truthfully, and she hoped he couldn't hear the desperation in her voice or the rising arousal.

"I want you to excuse yourself to the loo, remove your knickers, and when you return, I want you to wandlessly transport them into my pocket. Do you think you can do it?" Antonin asked his voice low and gruff. It made Hermione's core clench, trying to find release.

Hermione nodded, trying to keep the blush from her face as she swallowed. Without a word she left the attic and went down the staircase to the first loo, she came upon. She pulled down her white, silk thong and balled it up into her fist, ignoring the dampness.

When she returned to the attic, she was pleased that no one seemed to notice her departure or arrival. She stood near the door and pretended to watch the practicing Aurors, keeping her balled up fist behind her back. She glanced over to the side of the room where Antonin was standing, his lip curled in an undeniable smirk as he watched her.

Hermione recited the spell in her mind three times before she focused her energy on transporting it to his jean pocket. She felt the cloth leave her fist, and when she turned to look at Antonin, she tried to swallow a gasp.

Instead of her white thong hidden away in Antonin's front pocket, they had been transported to hang from the button of his jeans, and barely covered his growing erection. The sound she made was not ignored by some of the Aurors who turned to stare at her and turned to see what she was staring at. Her cheeks were crimson as she glanced back at Antonin, who had hastily grabbed her thong and put them in his pocket.

She took a deep breath of relief when the Aurors near her shrugged and turned back to their partner to practice.

Even with the wrong location, the fact that she was currently walking around with no knickers on was such a turn on, she wondered if she could beg Antonin to take her during lunch.

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_To be continued. . ._


	19. Athenaeum

**A/n: I'm finally back to work and writing. Sorry for the day between chapters, but as I mentioned in the last one I somewhat expected it. I should get quite a few more written today.**

**You all have been wonderful in reviewing this story, and I'm so thankful for all your kind words. You, my dear readers, are a huge part of why this story is being written so quickly.**

**I hope your coming week is full of magic and happiness.**

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_Athenaeum (n): a library or reading room_

* * *

Hermione moved about the attic space picking up the instructional parchments as the Aurors headed downstairs for lunch. Antonin's instruction had been incredibly helpful, and though all the spells were in Russian, he had made sure all the Aurors could pronounce them and cast them with ease. She had been impressed watching the group of assembled witches and wizards, at first, she had seen the hesitation and thinly veiled contempt for Antonin, they had begun to see the effort and work he had put into helping them all. As the morning had grown into the afternoon, she had seen many friendly interactions between them and her Russian wizard.

She returned the papers to the table where they had gathered all the wands, though now it was empty, all the Aurors having taken their weapons with them. When she felt a presence behind her, almost touching her. Turning she found herself chest to face with Antonin who was looking down at her hungrily. "You missed Solnyshko," Antonin purred, his voice low and gravely.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, but she nodded.

"I think you need a lesson on vanishing spells, come with me," Antonin said grasping her hand and pulling her towards the staircase. When they had descended the stairs, they let go of each other's hands but stayed close. Hermione followed after him, as he led her along the many corridors until they came to a set of double doors.

"I discovered this room before I retired last night, I think it will serve our purposes perfectly," Antonin said as he pushed open the doors to reveal a vast library.

Hermione smiled, it wasn't as large as the Hogwarts or the Malfoy's library, but it was beautiful in its own cozy way. She knew that if she could have a library of her own that it would look a lot like this one.

Antonin turned to face the doors once they were inside and wandlessly cast the spells that would keep others from discovering them. Hermione couldn't help but be slightly turned on as the spells crossed his lips, a murmuring that was sensual to her ears. He turned to her again and tugged her down a long row of books until they were along the back wall, hidden by rows and rows of books.

"When I tell you I want you to vanish your clothing, but not until I say so," Antonin said. He leaned down and captured his lips with his own, lightly biting on her lower lip until she gasped and opened her mouth wide to him. As they kissed Antonin's hands ran along her hips, slowly shifting her leather pencil skirt higher.

Hermione shuddered when she felt the cool air across her glistening slit, her skirt now bunched at her hips. Her core shuddered as she pictured the two of them snogging with her slit exposed in the midst of ancient books, it was an evocative image. Antonin continued to snog her, his arm wrapping around her, just as his hand descended to run through her slit. He pushed at her entrance just enough to make her moan before he moved up and began to circle her clit. She was grateful for his arm wrapped around her, when her knees began to go out from under her, the pleasure building as he teased her.

"Vanish your clothes Solnyshko," Antonin said, moving back just enough to mouth his words against her own.

Hermione made to reach for her wand, but it was brushed to the floor by Antonin, and Hermione huffed. She imagined her clothes vanishing from her body and reappearing on the floor around them and spoke the words.

When only her skirt vanished, Antonin clicked with his tongue and finally let go of her lips. He looked down at her shaking his head. "I must teach you to focus your thoughts."

He turned her quickly and with a hand pressed to the middle of her back, made her bend over in front of him. Hermione heard the rustle of his pants before he entered her to the hilt without preamble.

"I love how wet you are for me," Antonin said his voice gruff with unconcealed pleasure.

He was thrusting into her roughly, bringing Hermione's pleasure to a bubbling point. She was overwhelmed by the pleasure that was rising in her, the feeling of sexual freedom and control that Antonin was giving her was addictive. When his hand came down on her arse cheek, she yelped, but her core fluttered delicately.

"You love that don't you?" Antonin asked her, his hands now raining down hits to her bouncing cheeks as he thrust into her.

Hermione could only nod as the orgasm crashed over her, Antonin's arms paused in their reddening of her bum, to circle around her and hold her up. But his thrusts continued, dragging out her orgasm until tears burned her eyes.

"You're not done Solnyshko, vanish your top," Antonin said, and Hermione thought she heard a hint of impatience in his voice.

Hermione tried to clear her mind, though it proved impossible as he continued to hit her internal pleasure button with each stroke. Finally, she gave up and with a moan forced her energy to make her shirt vanish.

Antonin groaned, his arms now circled around her bare abdomen. He moved his hands to tease her tightened peeks through her bra, eliciting another moan from Hermione. She was already nearing another peak of pleasure.

"You love when I take control, don't you?" Antonin asked. She could only nod as he continued to fill her ears with naughty words, "You love when I take you." "You love that I took your knickers from you and that I hold them." "You love that I turned your arse pink and you'll feel it all day now."

He grew quiet as his thrusts sped up, the only sound in the room that of their skin slapping together. Antonin was reaching a frenzied pace when he pinched her nipples hard, and moaned, "Cum now."

Hermione's nerves caught fire, her whole body sizzling as her core was thrust into roughly, her nipples pinched hard, and her arse just a lick under uncomfortable. Her mouth opened in a quiet moan that turned to a scream as the orgasm crashed over her. She sagged, her legs unable to hold her up, and Antonin slid them to the floor. His hips continued to thrust into her as she sat upon his cock, a new position that Hermione wanted to explore again.

As they both came down from the high, their breathing slowly steadied, and Hermione turned, not allowing Antonin's soft erection to fall from her core. She leaned her forehead against his forehead, and together they caught their breath.

Antonin kissed the tip of her nose, and her cheeks before he kissed her deeply, snogging the air she had just recovered from her lungs.

"You are perfect, Solnyshko," Antonin said his voice still low.

"Thank you, Antonin," Hermione replied, a lazy smile on her lips.

"We should go have lunch before anyone misses us," Antonin said, but he still did not let go of her.

Hermione could only nod but didn't move until Antonin lifted her up to stand before him. He leaned forward and licked at her slit and down her thighs, not enough to bring her over the edge, but enough to tease and clean her.

"Later," Antonin said simply as he stood. He dressed her carefully and grabbed her hand, and they walked down to the dining hall. When they both entered together, Hermione caught some curious glances, but Pansy's beaming face was enough to make Hermione smile. She was thankful someone knew, and she hoped that the gathered Aurors couldn't smell the sex on them as they sat down and pulled a sandwich onto their plates.

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_To be continued. . ._


	20. Assistant

**A/n: Not sure if yesterday's chapter just wasn't that good or not everyone had a chance to read it, but it was pretty quiet from you, my friends.**

**I want to remind everyone before reading this chapter that this like _all_  of my stories are guaranteed a happy ending. I couldn't write a story any other way.**

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_Assistant (n): a person who assists or gives aid and support; helper._

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Two days passed and Hermione found herself unable to sleep anywhere but in Antonin's bedroom. The bed sheets had been changed more times than she would care to admit, and the house-elves had happily agreed to keep fresh sheets on a chair in the room. Antonin was quickly becoming a drug she was worried that she couldn't function without. The way he held her, made her feel like the most precious person in the world. She felt beautiful, delicate, and cared for, and though it wasn't easy to forget their shared past, Hermione couldn't see even a glimpse of the ex-Death Eater in him any longer.

Antonin had taken her into realms of pleasure, Hermione thought impossible, but he knew just how to take control, and seemed to read her mind when it came to her own fantasies. They both frequently laughed, both acknowledging that they felt like horny teenagers instead of two fully grown adults who were currently trying to save the world. Though Hermione was quick to admit it was a nice distraction from the reports they received.

More wandmakers were turning up missing or just dead, and she and Antonin knew it meant that Rookwood was getting closer and closer to feeling confident in taking Ollivander. And that's why they found themselves sitting in the breakfast table, watching as Harry helped the aged Ollivander to a seat across from Hermione.

"Good morning Mr Ollivander, thank you for seeing us on such short notice," Hermione said when Harry had taken his seat next to the old wandmaker.

"Well when Mr Potter and you Miss Granger request my presence, how could I decline such an invitation?" Mr Ollivander smiled.

The house-elves appeared at that moment laden with tea trays and pastries that were quickly distributed around the table. To Hermione's right was Antonin Dolohov and on his other side was Auror Higgens. Draco sat on Hermione's other side, Luna at his side. Pansy sat next to Harry, her hand on her husband's.

"Well Mr Ollivander we have a favor to ask of you, but first we must explain somethings," Hermione said taking a sip of her tea.

"I assumed there would be an explanation when I saw Mr Dolohov here," Ollivander said, and though his face remained friendly, there was a strain in his voice.

Antonin cleared his throat, cutting off Hermione's next words, his Russian accent which generally was not as pronounced, was thick, and Hermione knew it was only when Antonin was emotional that his accent grew. "Mr Ollivander, I would like to beg your forgiveness for the treatment you received at my hands during the war, I know you have no reason to trust me, and I don't expect you too, but I would still like to offer my apologies."

Ollivander's sharp blue eyes widened, and he nodded at Antonin before he turned his attention back to Hermione.

"Mr Ollivander I'm not sure if you're aware of the wandmakers around the globe that have gone missing or turned up dead, but we believe it is the work of one wizard. An ex-Death Eater who while Voldemort was alive had him working on a project to overtake wands."

"You speak of the loophole?" Ollivander asked.

Hermione looked at Harry who shrugged and Antonin who repeated the gesture. "I think so, that his wand might take control of the creator's wand?"

"Yes, while I was held in captivity I was questioned about that almost as frequently as I was asked about Mr Potter's wand or the elder wand. It is old magic that all wandmakers are aware of, we have never discovered a way to close the loophole. It would be quite a complicated bit of magic," Mr Ollivander said his eyes glazing as his mind filled with thoughts.

"I'm thankful you know of what we're discussing, that saves us much time. Augustus Rookwood has escaped capture for years, and with Mr Dolohov's help, we have been made aware of the fact. He has also helped our Aurors learn wandless spells that might be useful if Rookwood manages to overpower your wand, sir," Hermione said, choosing her words carefully. Ollivander had always been friendly to her, but Harry had shared his unease in the old wandmaker years ago.

"We would like to place Mr Higgens here as an assistant in your shop, temporarily until Rookwood is caught. We would also appreciate if you would allow us to place additional wards around your shop and home," Hermione continued, indicating Higgens in turn.

"I would appreciate that, but I do ask that Mr Higgens be absent when I am creating the wands, it is delicate magic that has been passed down in my family for generations," Mr Ollivander said eyeing Higgens before he looked at Hermione again.

"Of course, that shouldn't be a problem," Hermione said turning to see Higgens nod. "We will send Harry and Mr Higgens with you right away, please feel free to owl Harry or me at any time with any additional concerns, or speak with Higgens."

The group finished their tea, discussions of wandlore and of the deceased wandmakers making up the bulk of the conversation before finally Harry helped Mr Ollivander to the fireplace and return to his shop, followed by Higgens.

Pansy smiled at Hermione with a wink as Draco stood up, pulling Luna with him. "You know Granger, you and Dolohov might want to look into what it would take to close the loophole. We're all working on the spells he's designed so that part is taken care of, but we could prevent all of this if that loophole could close."

Hermione looked at the blond wizard who was looking between her and Antonin with a sly smile. "That's a great idea Malfoy."

"Of course it is, it would also give you both some extra time in the library," Draco said, and now Hermione was sure he knew something was going on. Her gaze flicked to Pansy who shook her head. "Did you really think you could hide it? You both should remember to cast silencing charms on your bedroom walls, Luna and I could hear you all last night."

Luna smiled serenely at Hermione before she spoke, "You also have a lot of Sinquits flying around you, which is very curious indeed."

Hermione was on the edge of asking Luna what Sinquits were when Draco leaned down to whisper in his fiance's ear. She nodded, and Draco's smile grew. "Well as I said, remember to silence your walls, though Granger listening to you was such an aphrodisiac I might miss it." He then pulled Luna to him, and they walked out of the dining room.

Hermione rolled her eyes as Pansy spoke, "I swear the pair of them like he needed any additional help with his ego. Now she tells him things that only Lovegood notices and he just smiles like a Cheshire cat."

The trio left the dining room, and they all headed for the library. Hermione did a quick search of the shelves for any books on Wandlore and was about to head back to the centre of the library where they had set up a table when she heard Pansy and Dolohov talking.

"All I'm saying is be careful with her, she's struggled a lot with relationships, and we both know what happens when Rookwood is caught," Pansy was saying, her voice low.

Hermione's eyebrows rose as Antonin responded.

"I am being careful, but I will not deny Hermione anything, I owe her too much. She understands what happens after, as do I. I don't wish to cause her further pain," Antonin said, and Hermione could hear him sit down in a chair.

"Good, but maybe you should distance yourself from her so that her feelings don't continue to grow for you," Pansy said sounding worried.

"I will talk to her, but like I said I will not deny her anything," Antonin said though his tone gave away his emotions.

Hermione heard Pansy's heels click on the library floor and the door shut as the witch left. She finally rounded the corner, levitating the stack of books behind her. She wasn't sure what to think of their discussion. She was quickly growing to care about Antonin, more than she had thought possible, and it had only been a couple of days, but Pansy was right, at the end of this he would return to Azkaban, and she would return to life without him, without anyone. She bit her lip, there wasn't an easy answer to this, but if she had to go back to being single again after this, she might as well enjoy her time now.

She raised her hand, locking the door to the library and once the books landed on the table, she moved to stand in front of Antonin. Hermione quickly vanished her clothes, smirking as she did it, standing in front of the Russian wizard completely nude, she knelt down and unzipped his trousers.

If she only had a brief amount of time, she was going to make the most of it, and she was going to start by watching Antonin be completely undone.

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_To be continued. . ._


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